Children of Darmis
by Miki-Death-Strike
Summary: Esthar and Galbadia have fallen to civil war, along with a mysterious city from which a young woman seeks escape. Enemies lay within allies, political powerhouses hire the aid of SeeD to correct the world years after the moon vanished for seven nights.
1. Invasion for Retreat

Author's Note: Miki's back! And after such a long absence, I must admit, I've missed this site a great deal! Well, to explain this new story a bit, the idea came to me randomly as usual. It was originally planned to be strictly based on the events of FF8, but, well, you know how things change the more you write off a budding idea. It's completely A/U, but it borrows many events that did happen in the game. Anyway, here's the full summary:

"For seven nights, the moon had vanished, leaving the land's natural balance disturbed. And two children were cursed to sleep for seven days. The continent of Galbadia has fallen to civil war, and a mysterious city from which a young woman seeks escape, is depending on its last throes to hinder the advances of the Galbadian military. The great Republic of Esthar is laying siege to various villages and port towns east of Galbadia, a surprising display of fury to all nations that had once been protected by it. This betrayal was the first to send the world into a state of war, in which nothing and no one is spared; enemies lay within allies; political powerhouses seek the aid of the Special Forces, SeeD to perhaps set the course of the world straight, or to perpetuate the prevailing bloodshed. To unravel the secrets behind the devastation, the prophetical "Children of Darmis" must find each other and piece together the circumstances of their pasts and the future they must trust in."

And if you do decide to stick around, I promise you won't be disappointed in this epic!

* * *

_**Invasion For Retreat**_

Black smoke blurred the amber horizon, where the clouds appeared like purple bruises against the sky. Metal structures rose high above the smoggy, hard air of the emptying streets, heavy pollution seething through the stagnant atmosphere. Near a dangling wooden shop sign, a nearly broken wagon stood, creaking and leaking out splinters. It was the only fairly operational wagon she could find, and it would have to hold up long enough until she could get something that could transport her away, somewhere far from that ever-present bloody horizon.

Motes of dark embers, almost colorless in the light of the dying sun began falling, here and there, landing on the scoffed ash-gray roads and in her hands. These particles were the insignia of the war, an everyday precipitation produced by it—the smell of sulfur and petroleum invaded the town just as the war had.

"This can't be good for the fruit," someone said above the roaring aircrafts and the rescue personnel that was only a short distance away.

When she turned, the unfamiliar soldier came forth. He wasn't grinning, nor did he look displeased. Just . . . bored maybe. This was a rarity she saw in soldiers. These men always found something to do, and if they didn't want to do a particular thing that at least didn't grant a half-grin, they wouldn't do it. But this man was different. He was cut away from the rest, he was _unfamiliar_.

"People buy them anyway," she replied. "Not much you can do in a war." And it was true, there really wasn't much a girl like her could do nowadays. People either adapted or fled, but she didn't belong to either. She was both running, and accepting of, a remarkable situation to be in in this town.

"You could fight," the blond soldier replied. His eyes were as emerald as the plains of Belis encompassing the small city-state, serene but like guarding mountains, standing watch over his inner secrets. If there was anything she learned about the eyes of a soldier, it was that they always had their own unique beauty. Yet, they were too brutal and warded off to be considered attractive by most.

"I'd rather stay here and sell my fruit," she replied.

Saying no more, the girl dropped the embers that were silently collecting in her gloved palms.

This soldier, barely a man, but qualified as such, was a reinforcement. He _had_ to be, otherwise, he wouldn't be speaking to her about the falling embers defiling the baskets of fruit she was selling. He also was young, around her age, and men like him had all been sent off to one of the Galbadian military bases. This one, she'd never seen in this town before, and she knew that she'd remember his face for ages. This one should have been where the heavy plumes of smoke was rising, stretching into the sky as if to escape the world it was ensnared in. Her small city was losing the battle.

A strong wind threw the embers in an uproar, and the soldier's silver coat flaps mimicked them, revealing a glimpse of a gunmetal object that was too long to be simply a gun. Her heart fluttered and a wave of apprehension took over.

The soldiers here paraded their artillery around, marching through the streets with blatant superiority; it was their trademark, a label better suited for the vicious grendels populating the forests. But then, those beasts were acting purely on instinct. These soldiers were acting on their own inner complexes. Seeing the weapon concealed beneath his coat scared her, though she should have expected him to be armed.

"What the hell? You'd rather sell fruit to non-buyers? Why?" the soldier laughed, folding his arms across his chest. "And it doesn't bother you that you're the only one standing out here under this shitty-ass sign, making no profit?"

"It can't be helped," she simply said, and it was all she needed to say. What did he expect her to do? Pick up an apple and charge right into battle? Unlike his fearless kind, she couldn't just solve her problems through combat, solutions like that were only meant for the strong, and she was far from that.

When the city's independence was stolen, so was her chance to fly away. She was trapped like the colossal smoke that frequented the skies.

"Shouldn't you be fighting over there?" she asked him, finding that annoyance could outweigh her fear.

"I just came from over there, they're just cleaning up."

"So, you're not a reinforcement?"

"Yeah, I am. I have nothing to do with _this _war," he answered.

"Then you're a SeeD?" she asked.

The military was quite hesitant of hiring SeeD. Not only were they expensive, but they were also completely uninvolved with the conflicts towering over the city. They were detached from why the soldiers whom they were aiding fought. They were just an outside force, fighting for a cause that belonged only to the city. In essence, they were just about the same as the force opposing them. But the battles were growing intense, and the militia was losing too many men—men who had once been civilians, the children of the city. This battle was the final one, a last attempt to thwart the military might of the Galbadian army. The call to have SeeDs dispatched had been one of desperation if anything.

Still, she found it a little surprising and disappointing that this soldier had that "outsider" mentality. No sensitivity whatsoever. But this was war, such a thing was obsolete.

By his attitude, it was quite obvious who he was, but she supposed that he chose not to answer her because it really wasn't necessary. Once he completed his commission, he'd be gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

"Anyway, I'm outta here. Good luck selling," he said, throwing her a lopsided grin.

"It's only 5 gil a basket. . . ."

"I'll think about it."

And he was gone, casually walking the opposite way of the few, furtive townspeople as they searched for a quick place to hide.

* * *

As Kal had anticipated, the Galbadian units were making their way in through Caelum's only fortress: the Timberlands. It was just as the name implied, a vast stretch of trees and shrubs that connected the city to the forests and grasslands beyond. The natural defense was adequate enough, considering the dense foliage and the cover it provided, but the Galbadians were good at discovering flaws and using it to their advantage. While the trees shielded and concealed the small city, they were mere twigs against the massive armored combat vehicles that plowed through the forests.

As a second line of defense were the city's underdeveloped military unit. A majority of these soldiers were just kids, no older than twenty, bearing weapons against a sudden force that was by far, mightier and well-experienced. Their supplies were mainly provided by left-over weapons from previous wars outside of their city, now rusting and outdated, clearly no match for the advanced munition of the innovative Galbadians, second to that of the technological Esthar. Every few short months they were discovering, experimenting, and researching, all to empower their own nation.

Kal believed that for the advancement of a civilization, such tasks were necessary, but conquering and bullying other developing countries with pure brute-force was downright shameful. The Galbadians had no sense of obligation to the larger world outside of their enclosed one. All they cared for was conquest and gaining materials specific to a region, stopping for no one, set-apart from the people who were left to conform to a war-ravaged land.

"These are the latest reports, sir!" a man simply titled Watts said. The green skullcap he wore with the faded corduroys and a matching vest practically summed him all up. He was good at gathering information, even impossible facts sometimes, which made him very valuable to the team. Still quirky as hell though.

"Hm, perfect," Kal replied, eying the holographic diagram of two panzers belonging to the 2nd Infantry Division of the Galbadian Army. It was a supplies truck ordered in from a lieutenant who reported that his platoon was low on ammunition. They were being heavily showered by class five magic, a skill that only SeeDs could command. This particular information had come in from the radio waves the Galbadians used to communicate, an easy interception that Kal liked to describe as 'listening in'.

Kal flicked the plastic base of the hologram with his fingers, and the images disappeared.

"No wonder," Kal thought aloud. He handed the report to a curious Watts.

"No wonder what, sir?" the man questioned, placing the information on the rectangular table that held various other documents and the like.

"I was wondering why Caelum's army was lasting so long against the Galbadians. It took us an hour to get here, and I was sure by then, the war would have ended. . . . So they hired SeeDs, eh?"

SeeDs had been present when Galbadia invaded his hometown of Timber, which wasn't too far from Caelum. Having been the crux of trade and international commerce for years, Timber had been the centerpiece of Galbadian commercialism. It had been the main harboring port for other countries, surpassing even that of Dollet, only it had not fallen under Galbadian control like others. Timber was the first to suffer such a fate.

The battle was hard-fought however, but not even the many resistance factions, and even SeeDs could stop them. For the Galbadians, recapturing government control of Timber meant the complete unification of their empire. Now, not only were they the champions of trade, they were also in a vital position. Timber's location at the edge of the continent was convenient and it allowed Galbadia's economy to boom.

When Galbadia had destroyed the forests surrounding Timber, contained the opposing forces, the SeeDs had withdrawn, collecting their pay. All Kal had to collect were the remains of his family and friends. Now, seventeen years later, he was apart of a crew that felt the same way as he. This faction was strictly dedicated to hindering the Galbadian army in any way possible.

"So what do you think, sir? This could be our only chance, especially now that SeeD is here. . . ."

Watts was also good for interrupting Kal's thoughts.

"We'll send 'em in there, of course," Kal laughed, adjusting his headpiece. He turned to the half-closed blinds where gray light spilled into the communications room. Beyond was just a wall of dark shades of green. ". . . This is Kal, do you copy?" he said, speaking into the device at his mouth.

Watts moved to the end of the room, sitting before a wall of computer screens, interfaces, and blinking control panels.

"I copy. What's up?" a feminine voice said back.

"There are two supplies vehicles coming within a 1 mile radius, headed your way. Arm yourselves," Kal replied.

"Nice," the female said. "That'll hurt them for sure!"

"Be careful, the moment they spot you, they'll report to their superiors and we'll be sitting ducks if you don't get your asses back to Base immediately," Kal warned, throwing a glance toward Watts. When he was out scouting for info, most of the time he was left behind whenever the Galbadians grew too suspicious of them.

"I know, I know," the female repeated time and again. "See you in ten, Kal."

They disconnected.

* * *

The plan was to wipe out the supplies vehicles making its way into Caelum, take the loot meant for the Galbadian platoon, and get back to the base before their location was discovered. It was a simple enough operation, nothing that Rinoa wasn't used to. All throughout the Galbadian continent, she and the rest of her crew left their mark on the Galbadian army any chance they got. The faction tried their best to injure their troops and battle tactics, even if those marks were only scratches.

It had taken just about a year and a half for the Galbadians to finally acknowledge their slightly formidable opponents, spoken of by underground news and radio broadcasters, appearing in the papers, and even dubbed heroes by those opposed to Galbadia. Of course, if she and her crew were to go up against just a fourth of their military might, they'd lose in a matter of minutes. However, combat was not the technique that made her faction a splinter under the Galbadians' nail, it was their ability to show up at a crucial moment and cause havoc.

Receiving publicity and fame was not their target. They were here to defend the defenseless, spit back at the Galbadians, to _stop_ them for however long it would take.

Right now, from Rinoa's understanding, the SeeDs had arrived into battle. They'd been deployed a few weeks before the actual battle had started, which suggested that Caelum knew they were going to be under Galbadian fire soon. When Galbadia's military had mobilized, so did her faction. Silently, they had followed the army to this location, choosing now, a very pivotal moment, to attack and do their damage.

With the SeeDs firing away, providing much aid to the otherwise weak Caelum troops, Galbadia's platoon was in need of more ammo, and all her crew had to do was prevent the vehicles from reaching their destination. It would buy the SeeDs and Caelum more time, but it would also uncover her faction's whereabouts.

Operations like these were always risky, and required a loss on both fronts, but such a loss was worth it when one was fighting for freedom and justice.

"Hear they come," Zone, Rinoa's right-hand man in combat, commented. Though she heard the harsh thrum of the engines in the surely armored truck, she saw nothing. Averting her eyes from the confirmed direction the vehicles would be driving in, Rinoa took a moment to eye her other men. They all were prepared, guns and projectiles firmly gripped.

Smiling slightly, she turned to tend to her own weapon. The pinwheel was simple in design, a sleek gunmetal blade, circular in shape, clamped to her forearm by a metal holster and two wide straps. The weapon had been a gift to her by the Chief herself, back in Timber. She saw the potential in Rinoa, and as a sign of such a belief, had provided her with a device to fight the Galbadians. The weapon had been Rinoa's practically since she joined the Forest Owls.

Zone shifted his weight by the base of the tree he was crouching by. In a much higher position, atop a branch of that same tree was where Rinoa could be found.

Soon, the vehicles came in to view, one of a rusty orange tinge, and the other black and red. An obnoxiously huge insignia of Galbadia marked both of the vehicles. Rinoa stood up, stretching a hand out to signal the other men on the opposite side of the road. Immediately, they rose and aimed their own projectiles at the wheels of the vehicles.

The sound of bomb-infused metal inflating rubber sounded when the Galbadians stopped moving forward. A few moments later, two soldiers, clad in dark blue, with metal helmets concealing their faces appeared from the vehicles.

Automatically, their stances were cautious and inspecting, probing the forests on either sides of their vehicles. They then signaled for the rest of their men that had come along.

As two other soldiers crouched to examine the cause for the flat tires, Rinoa took that as her chance to strike.

She lifted her pinwheel to eye level, concentrated, pulling the lever, and shortly after, the trigger. Instantaneously, the blade shot from her arm and stabbed one of the soldier's rapiers. The weapon was forced from his gloved hands.

"We're under fire! Head for cover!" one of the soldiers shouted, but it was too late. They were already engaged by the members who had struck first.

Rinoa quickly climbed from the tree, trailed by two others of her crew. Zone followed suit, gripping his turning stomach.

"I don't feel too good," he said, and Rinoa ignored him. Once the danger escalated, he was known to do that.

With one soldier knocked out cold, and three more to go, Rinoa swiftly ran to retrieve her blade. As she did so, the owner of the snatched rapier came charging for her. She hurdled to the ground as Zone came forward. He threw his hand in the direction of the nearing soldier, and a stream of bright orange light came spewing forth, seemingly out of thin air. It spiraled and crashed into the soldier, exploding into a ball of flame, burning the soldier's clothing and cracking his vizer.

The soldier fell to the ground, but the flames on his armor were short-lived as they receded. The spell of fire was class one, powerless against his fire-absorbent clothing. The simple spell, however, provided Rinoa with enough time to grab her pinwheel and shoot it toward a third soldier that threatened to kill Zone with one slice of his sword. The blade entered the Galbadian's shoulder and he went down, more from the force, than an actual injury.

A gun shot followed, drilling into the downed soldier's chest.

Zone moved to grab Rinoa's pinwheel, and in doing so, was slashed at by his previous opponent. He dodged the strike, but a few shreds of his shirt was taken away from him. The other three members of the forest owls were too busy with the fourth soldier to aid Zone, but Rinoa was there to pull Zone's weakened body from the soldier. Casting magic had always left him feeble and tired after a few short minutes, which was why he only used it during an emergency.

Hurriedly, Rinoa worked to place her weapon back to her forearm so she could shoot it again, but she saw that the soldier was pointing a hand toward her, his rapier dropping to his side.

He was summoning magic!

Galbadian soldiers were right up there with SeeDs when it came to the art of summoning. She stood no chance against him, especially with the other two members occupied and Zone taken out.

The fireball spat from his hand, propelling forward. Forgetting her weapon and how panicky her hands were, Rinoa pushed herself away from the ground, moving only a few short inches from where her incinerated body would have been.

The pinwheel slipped from her hand and skidded against the rocks and soil. She quickly popped up from the ground, ignoring the injury she knew she had on her shoulder and neck. The tongue of the soldier's spell had gotten her.

She could hear his fast footsteps coming up behind her as she scrambled to get her pinwheel.

"You damned muskrat!" cried the soldier.

But before he could end her, another gunshot rang out and instantly the soldier keeled forward, slumping into Rinoa's arms. She could hear his stifled breath, and then his body became limp.

"You're crazy for starting without me!" came the familiar voice of the person who'd saved Rinoa . . . again. In his hand was the sleek, powerful weapon he called, Hyperion. It was a thin blade, with a large automatic pistol attached to the base. She could see the smoke emitting from the hybrid. Always, that weapon was the next thing she saw after her survived encounter with death. "You all were just about done for. . . ." he said with disappointment in his voice. The male shook his head, and came forth.

He kicked the dead soldier away from Rinoa, offering his hand.

She took it, with a bit of uncertainty, as if she wasn't sure if he could see her, as if she were wondering if she were still alive.

Then the searing pain from her shoulder threw her back to reality, and all she could think about was how much it burned.

"This is Kal, do you copy?" Rinoa's ear piece shrilled. "Get back to the Base, we're under pursuit!"

* * *

With the Galbadian platoon decimated, and a crumbled, scorched street filled with severely injured militia, Squall searched around, taking note of his own men who were aiding the medical unit in their endeavors to get the injured to a secure place. He found that to be a familiar irony, _his_ soldiers tending to the wounded, in his line of work. The rescue personnel too were deployed by his academy from overseas at approximately 1400 hours. His second in command, Quistis Trepe, had sent the request immediately after the battle had ended.

From Wellens Boulevard, Squall had led the finishing attack against Galbadia, leaving the weakened militia behind to secure the city's center. In actuality, Squall's command for them to stay behind to prevent any invading soldiers that managed to get passed them was only a guise. Instead, he had simply provided a safe-haven for the inexperienced soldiers because they'd only get in his way, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Even if the Galbadians did sneak past Squall and his own squad of SeeDs to the militia, there were more trained cadets who were deployed along with them, for their field exam, who wouldn't let the Galbadians pass. Naturally, there would be casualties in Caelum's makeshift army, but Squall sought to lessen the numbers by having them stay behind.

But then, as the SeeDs battled, sending an onslaught of powerful magic across the battlefield, followed by wave after wave of gunfire(the idea being to push the Galbadians as far back as they would go)the militia began creeping up in between the SeeDs, shooting their measly guns at the Galbadians, and receiving two bullets to the chest in return.

They were beyond senseless to enter a fight between SeeDs and Galbadians, but then Squall had to remember that these people were very prideful. They wanted to fight until the end for their city, trying their hardest to keep from relying on his men too heavily, which was an impossibility. They had been stupid and careless, and now they were paying for it.

As he sheathed his weapon, Squall surveyed the charred terrain of the city, analyzing the burning brick buildings, the dark soot plastered on the wounded soldiers' pale faces, and the chilled, bitter air swirling over the ruins. White, hovering stretchers zoomed past him, awaiting the weight of an injured or dead body to be taken to the appropriate facilities. The former battlefield had become a large street of cluttered people and vehicles, moving here and there with a purpose. It was a good thing that the battle was nearly over when the militia had interfered.

After Galbadia had sent their aircraft to spray the SeeDs with bombs of fire, for a short time, the Galbadians had strangely stopped firing back, and when Squall and the rest of the SeeDs had marched on, they caught a glimpse of the soldiers darting away into the aftermath fog of gunfire, escaping from their posts. He had sent a few cadets and two SeeDs to investigate, and he had yet to hear their explanation, if there was one.

"Commander Leonhart," called one of Squall's subordinates. He turned to a fellow SeeD making his way around the scattered men being wrapped into gauze pads and given curative spells. "A member from the House wishes to speak with you. . . . He's over there," the SeeD said, pointing left where a large white tent housed the hovering stretchers, providing the injured with temporary shelter until the city's medical wagons could get there.

Squall nodded and left.

Being sure to stay out of the way of the nurses, doctors, and other medical agents, Squall maneuvered his way around until he was beside the member of the House, who, at the moment, was speaking with a man of the militia. This one was particularly older than the majority.

"Well, Captain?" said the member, his gloved hand lightly touching the man he spoke to.

"Eh, we did all right, sir. The . . . Galbadians are . . . gone, mayor Dol . . ." he managed, grimacing at the pain in his abdomen. The nurse had cleaned the wound and wrapped it. Now, all it did was bleed through. Squall remembered the Captain charging into battle, ignoring his commands to stand down. Now, here he lay, a broken mess. It was easier now to picture him not as a man with a hardened exterior.

"Hm, indeed. A battle well fought," the member of the House replied, purposefully looking at the injured captain of the militia. Squall knew that compliment belonged to him and his men, but he wouldn't argue. This guy despised SeeD, and he didn't have to inform Squall verbally; it was in his eyes, in his mannerisms. This guy would rather kill his own men then to enlist the help of SeeD or even to just surrender to the might of Galbadia. Luckily, the Senator had not allowed that. But whatever, what ever the hire-ups in this town decided didn't concern Squall.

He was here to perform his duties, which was to aid Caelum militia as they entered into a hopeless battle, no matter the outcome. And the soldiers didn't seem to complain; they _wanted_ to fight.

"You wished to speak with me?" Squall interjected, impatiently placing a hand to his hip.

"Ah, the mighty SeeD," the Captain happily titled Squall. He smiled a weak, slightly embarrassed one. "Thank you, for your help. Even if the Galbadians come back, at least we'll go down in history as a town that resisted them. Just once. . . ." he breathed out.

_You'll go down in history as prideful buffoons, if anything, _Squall thought to himself. He wondered if all of Caelum's people were willing to die for a city that had no real defense?

"Mr. Leonhart, the Senate wishes to hold a meeting with you and your men to discuss further business. . . ." the mayor said, finally giving the commander his full attention. "Before then, I ask that you remain here and . . . aid these men."

"The contract specifically states that medical help would be provided for. . . ." Squall said, irritated. Though Garden was not obligated to send any medical aide, Quistis had requested anyway. Squall had not objected, but now, he thought against it. He was a SeeD, a specialist in battle, not one to stand for a man, who not only disliked his kind, but also tried to squeeze out anything else from him that did not adhere to the contract. "We've given you medical help. If possible, I would like to hold the meeting tonight."

The mayor stared, his contempt seething through his hard, stern features.

"Just like you SeeD people to get the hell out once you've completed a task. Do you not see these injured men around you? They need help, and you SeeD are to provide that. Whatever extra charges there are, we'll gladly pay. The meeting will be held at the convenience of the Senator, no sooner, no later."

With that, Mayor Dolson brushed past Squall, retreating into his vehicle to be taken to the House at the square of the town.

"Don't worry about the Mayor, Mr. Commander," Captain Selser said, reminding Squall of his presence. Squall looked to the pathetic man, wondering how he could just look past the Senate's obvious disregard for their men's well-being. These men were dying for a government that would rather remain in power than to submit, but at the cost of the people they governed. "You'll take a side to him soon enough. It's just that he don't like outsiders is all. . . ." The captain coughed.

Squall sighed inwardly, uncaring if the fool mayor liked him or not. From the moment he had landed on Caelum's shore and been introduced to the mayor he hadn't liked him. But the situation Caelum and its people were in didn't concern the mayor's feelings for Squall. The Galbadians were bound to strike again, especially with an easy, conquerable city-state such as this, and he knew that they'd most likely enlist his help again. As long as the Headmaster at his academy was fine with that, and the contract transactions were made, Squall had no problem risking his life in battle again. What bothered him was Galbadia's motives behind the invasion.

There was a certain pattern that they followed. The Galbadians never intentionally crossed another's territory unless there was a real purpose behind it, which was why Squall found it strange that they'd waste their time taking over an insignificant small city-state like this, one he had no idea even existed. Like Timber, Caelum belonged to the Galbadian government once, so perhaps that was the only reason they bothered with it. Still, the pay for this mission was good, to his surprise, though it was expected when hiring SeeD. He wondered where the city got its funds from. It seemed pretty isolated from other nations, and had virtually escaped the pages of history. But then again, that was none of Squall's concern.

"Commander, there you are. . . ." A blonde woman came forward, toting the dark green suit jacket, and matching long skirt of a SeeD uniform. Her black, calf-high boots were painted with dust and the remnants of rubble.

Squall lead Quistis away from the resting Captain, nodding to him slightly.

"Well, you look pissed. . . ." she commented. Knowing that he wouldn't say anything, Quistis continued. "Anyway, we followed the Galbadians in the general direction they ran towards, and found two vehicles, possibly carrying reloading supplies."

"Possibly?" the Commander asked, looking ahead.

"The panzers were empty when we got there. . . ." Quistis answered.

"No soldiers?" was Squall's next question. They slowly walked amongst the throng of injured people and those that treated them, in no given direction.

"No, there were four dead, and the tires of those vehicles were busted. Someone had stabbed blades into them. An ambush is my guest. By the militia, you think?" she asked, folding her arms.

"Could have been," Squall simply replied. "Or maybe some resistance force. . . ."

"And I'm not sure, but the Galbadians really unloaded on us in battle don't you think? And they didn't even use the entire army. . . ." the blonde mused.

"Your point?"

"It just seemed like a bit much is all," she replied. The two had battled Galbadians before, it was just apart of the life of a SeeD, fighting the only active force, and Quistis learned that her opponents were very resourceful, which also meant that they wanted to either completely demolish the city, or quickly demolish SeeDs. ". . . And I don't know what it is, but this town gives me the creeps. . . ."

Squall said nothing. However, he did share Quistis' feeling. The town _was_ eerie, emitting some sort of mysterious miasma, translucent to the unsuspecting eye. He had felt it since coming here,even the Captain seemed a bit odd before he was injured. His eyes would shift about, and he'd never really looked the SeeD reinforcements in the eye. But, of course, he could have just been mistrusting. Squall wasn't sure if the feeling would last, but suddenly, he wished to get the meeting with the Senate over with. He wanted to fight the Galbadians again, just so he could leave afterward, just so he could get out of this town.

"Man, I wish I could do more for these people," Quistis said aloud. She looked over to two young men, barely conscious, as doctors scrambled to return the lost blood in their bodies.

"It's useless. Another attack by the Galbadians, and this town is done for. . . . It's reality, it's bound to happen." Before Quistis could object and combat his insentient words, Squall continued. "Anyway, the Mayor intends for us to help the wounded until they're ready to hold the meeting. You're free to do as you please, but don't involve yourself any further than you need to. We're breaching the contract as is, and giving them leeway. I'm sure the town would appreciate our minimal involvement."

Then, Squall stormed off, possibly to the base since he was no longer needed. Quistis watched him go, baffled by his behavior, though she was familiar with it.

"How did you get like that, Squall?" she asked herself quietly.


	2. Lyric of Men

_**Lyric of Men**_

Sometimes, the ocean existed as an innocent child, playing at the wooden body of the ship, tugging it along, down an expansive trail separate from the shore. And sometimes, the ocean sang like the gentle voice of a mother, her arms rocking the child into a sleep more sound and precious than anything a war-ravaged world could offer. More than once, the ocean had used its voice to send Ellone into unwelcome reveries, ones she also considered to be her only time of rest. Such was her very own lonely lullaby, its utterances rattling away at her soul, numbing it.

When she looked out from beyond deck, the skies always looked dim and subdued, with the bronze sun dipping beneath the distant rocks of the hazy mountains, returning from whence it came. The seaward wind's salty breath tangled with the pungent scent of the ship, passing through like the apparitions that appeared in her dreams. There would be a time when the ocean would no longer become such a familiar companion for her, when she could finally see the sunset from behind the glass of a windowpane. Or having to no longer imagine looking out into the wide expanse of the gray body of water just to see Winhill and its sea of grass stretching further than the sky itself. How it swayed and moved with the currents of summer wind. When the wars would end, and how soon it'd be, she had no way of knowing.

There was no indication she could cling to, no speculation. All she could depend on was her own instincts and the small crew aboard the sailing ship. They too were unable to hear news of the present, from any corner of the earth or any medium. Such a circumstance never ceased to remind Ellone of her predicament, and that of the people she had dragged along with her.

Toward the end of the Time of the Purge, just after countless witches were slain to appease fear, a period of great change had come about, not only for the leaders of the world, but more personally for Ellone. Her constant life at sea was a fairly recent experience, and it served as validation to the downward spiral the world was fast descending into.

"You know, when you look like that, I wonder about you. . . ."

Captain Daris of the White Seed had a face about him that could quiet the most perturbed, paired with eyes that were serene and the color of the waters, but could swallow you whole without warning.

Ellone simply smiled at his remark, one she heard quite frequently. She wondered what his life had been like before he began trekking the seas. Maybe he'd been doing this for some time, his expertise in navigation being appropriate. Or maybe he just had a pliant nature about him, could just as easily adapt to this life above the water because of the circumstance that he didn't create. Ellone knew she'd never muster up the courage to ask about his past.

"Even the children noticed your unusual distance today. What troubles you?" Though Ellone had been aboard the ship for only a few short months, Captain Daris couldn't pretend that being here didn't bother her. She masked her uneasiness well when it came to the children, however, a woman as fragile as she appeared couldn't suppress such emotions for long.

"I'm sorry," was all Ellone would offer. Understanding this, Daris turned his attention toward the skies ahead, taking particular note to the way the clouds seemed to reach out to the very place the sun was disappearing to.

"These past few months have been hard on you, hard on us all. It's quite evident." He placed his gloved hand along the golden banister of the ship, sliding it this way and that, contemplating. His eyes came before Ellone's dark ones. "All that I ask is that you trust us a little more. This journey isn't over, and we've got a ways to go before—"

"Journey?" Ellone softly interrupted. "Those usually require a destination. . . ." She didn't sound bitter, only fatigued. Perhaps from the travel itself, or from the questions that he couldn't answer. Ellone was certainly no fool, and the inquiries she placed for Daris were ones that went beyond his own orders, ones that were beyond him or her. "Where are we headed?"

Captain Daris denied his will to tell her, turning from the routine question as if it shamed him. "You know I can not answer that. . . ." Ellone's eyes became spheres of tamed fire. Her expression he'd grown acquainted with. She was a gentle girl, and to see her direct so much anger left him feeling uneasy and detached. Could she ever understand?

"Then how do you expect me to trust you?" Her delicate hands reached for the emerald cloak that sagged away from her shoulders. She tightened its hold, just as a fierce wind shot through, tousling her dark hair.

"If you can not trust me, then please, trust your uncle. These are his orders," Daris explained again. "He wishes the best for you, you know this."

Ellone nodded, showing no tolerance for his answer. It did not satisfy her. Again, she studied the ocean, feeling as though it also played a part in dictating the course of her life.

"You are a . . . commodity to the war," Daris reminded her. He saw her eyes close, to shut out his harsh words, to shut out her own role in the world. "When one has power over another, they seek to use it. You must understand, Ms. Loire."

"I can't," she responded. He looked to her, a bit agitated.

"You must. Your life depends on it."

With that Captain Daris left her side to go below deck. Silently, Ellone stood and waited.

* * *

"Where did you run off to when we were fighting?" Zone angrily flailed his arms. He was attempting to understand what had ensued just over an hour ago, and to correct it. Seifer had suddenly appeared in their battle against the Galbadians like some corny hero from a cliché action film, a very distasteful display that had nearly cost the Forest Owls a member. It was the kind of arrogance Zone could not ignore, especially when Rinoa was nearly killed because of it. "We're a team here," he continued, " and if you don't wisen up to the rules, we're going to kick your ass out!"

Zone kept his distance from the potentially dangerous man. Seifer was looking at him with boredom set into his expression. He was seated with one leg over the other and his left arm resting atop the plastic sofa.

"Are you done? I think the _princess _could use some quiet now," he replied, with a derisive smirk. "This ain't much of a team if I'm the only one doing all of the work." He rose from his seat, inching toward Zone. Immediately, Seifer could see in his eyes that he wanted to back down, to submit, but to save face, he only stood there, looking up to him, trying hard to hide his trembling. "You would have been dead if I didn't come, and I'm sure you weren't worried about some half-assed team shit then. Don't preach to a man that saved your life, chicken-wuss."

With his piercing green gaze, he held Zone's full attention. Any decision to talk back had been long thought out, and it was in Zone's best interest to keep his mouth shut.

"All right, Seifer. Why don't you come in here, I've got something to show you," Kal said from the communications room. Unsure if Seifer had actually heard the man, Zone cleared the path for him to leave anyway, keeping his lips tightly pursed, and his eyes hard.

"Take a look at this," Kal said when Seifer was close enough. The middle-aged man handed him a strange ebony device. It featured a rather oblong appearance with nothing more than a crystalline rock-like paneling. Seifer tested the weight of the object, and found it to be oddly light, mechanical. "Ever seen anything like it?"

"No," he replied.

The table before the two was littered with detached machinery and armaments extracted from the Galbadian supplies vehicle they had plundered. Shell casings and their bullets lay to the far corner scattered atop layers of documents and hologram boards. Kal would have Watts look over them when the time came. For now, they were headed on a course to keep the chances of pursuit low.

Kal eyed Seifer as the man moved around the table, tinkering with the low grade rifles and pistols. He lifted one to his side, felt the familiar coolness of it, how it tucked perfectly into the juncture of his arm. Back during his days at the academy, manning heavy artillery units had come naturally to him, as if the weaponry were only an extension of his own hand. He'd shown much promise and potential, but it hadn't been what he'd wanted.

"Hm," Kal grunted. His aging eyes studied Seifer's expertise, knowing well enough there was more to the kid than he was willing to share.

"What's the matter?" Seifer asked, piqued by the middle-aged man's sudden interest. Kal merely laughed it off, clearing a space on the table to finish repairing the small chamber of a used shot gun. He understood what secrets men like Seifer kept, and why they concealed them. More or less, it was like an instinct, an innate habit, manifested from the first fall of a body. To see a man collapse to the ground without ascertaining his innocence, because it was not your will to do so, because the man represented the eyes of the enemy, was an eternal image pulsing in your soul. The power to steal the life of another without so much as connecting a feeling to it proved to be overwhelming at first, until fate's venomous sting punctured your mind and catapulted you into a numb reality, one that distracted you for the good.

That instance of solitary emptiness was all soldiers could hear, and it silenced them, brought about a kind of quiet that barricaded those locked images well. Kal knew of Seifer's silence, maybe even more than the guy realized about himself. He would eventually, Hyne-willing, perhaps sooner than Kal had.

The blonde soldier before him picked up a shell casing, rolling it between his gloved hand. "Where are we headed?" he asked. Kal pulled from his mouth the unlit cigarette he'd just inserted. He grasped the metal gun chamber and examined its repaired parts meticulously.

"Caelum," he answered.

"You want to get caught or something?" Seifer jested. They'd just come from the Timberlands, barely escaping Galbadian pursuit. If Caelum hadn't yet fallen to occupation, they would soon, and the city would be a hot zone for the resistance faction.

"It's the closest town, and we need to restock. Besides, the SeeDs are there, those soldiers are long gone." Here, Kal stopped his analysis of the metal part and looked to Seifer. "Might find someone you know there, who knows?"

It was fascinating to Kal how just a few short months ago, Seifer had decided to join the faction, saying nothing more than that he was "on a mission" or something to that effect. He'd had that defining assertiveness in his mannerisms, and that cocksure grin that drove Zone insane. Of course, most of the team had been reluctant, but Kal insisted he tagged along the moment he'd seen the eyes of the soldier inside peering back at him, seeming to escape his demons, or maybe test them, he didn't know. The kid was a nice installment to the team, at least up until he decided to split.

Seifer became silent, a small grin creasing his lips. Kal continued.

"Those SeeDs, you might think they were Gods the way people talk about them," he went on, replying to Seifer's expression.

"No more God than your average army dog," the blonde responded. Kal released a heavy laugh that shook the table.

"So then what the hell are you?" Seifer's grin widened. He placed the golden bullet shell upon its bottom, then flicked his finger against its cold exterior. It tumbled away, joining a pile of med kits.

"Still at it?" he replied.

The two turned at the sound of weak footsteps entering the communications room. Rinoa came forth, her eyes fatigued though she'd just come from a short nap. She delicately prodded at what would have been a burn scar on her neck, reacting to its tenderness. Had Seifer not been there, she would have suffered more than just burns.

"So the princess awakens!" Kal exclaimed. He blew a plume of smoke in her opposite direction, making space for her to sit. Rinoa found herself unable to grasp a glimpse of Seifer as she took her place among the men. Only a few months had passed, yet, still, she was foreign to his presence. "How's the wound?"

"It's tender," Rinoa answered. Kal came forth to examine it, and as he did, Rinoa could feel Seifer's gaze return to whatever it was he was doing. She looked over and discovered his weapon. The cross between a gun and a sword, Hyperion. It evoked the memory of the white, spiraling smoke that had spewed forth from its barrel, and the emerald eyes of its master from behind. Then, the Galbadian soldier had died in her arms.

"We'll get Seifer to use some of that magic stuff in a little while, just let it breathe," Kal advised.

"Zone told me we're headed to Caelum. Are we helping the people there?" Seifer outwardly scoffed, going to work cleaning Hyperion. The cigarette he'd bummed from Kal dangled from his mouth precariously.

Then, Rinoa recognized the sudden change in the air, the kind that was felt when men reached mutual understandings. It was a world she couldn't explore, as much as she would love to. The terrain was a dangerous geography best left for people like Seifer and Kal to delve in to. She'd seen it before when Seifer first joined the Forest Owls, a vast puzzle to solve to reach the end of its mystery. Only, Seifer held all of the pieces from her.

"Those people aren't going to make it," Seifer proclaimed. At that, Rinoa faced him.

"Says who? The SeeDs came and drove Galbadia away. You're calling that weakness?" she demanded. Seifer's eyes reached her angered ones, almost dispelling them.

"If you can't win your own fight, there ain't much you can do. Call it what you want. The SeeDs are there, but once they leave, Caelum's done for," Seifer replied.

Rinoa redirected her anger toward Kal, "Not if they continue to fight, even if we help them!"

Kal shook his head uneasily, as if roiling through the difficult situation Caelum faced. "Well," he said, "it ain't that easy. But we'll know once we get there."

Subdued somewhat, Rinoa placed a question for Seifer, "What do you plan to do there?"

"Who knows, I might find someone I know. . . ." He dropped his cigarette to the floor and stumped the burning tobacco. Kal's smile returned as he reached to connect the gun chamber to its appropriate part.

* * *

Ex-Brigadier Martine Beaumonte knew what the breath of flames felt like against his skin. He could imagine it consuming him and dismantling all that he'd lived to build so profoundly. That kind of flame influenced men like him to bend to its will, especially when submitting was the better option. The ex-brigadier had acquired perspicacity at quite a young age, never dismissing room for calculation, and he had little tolerance for fools. If anything, the Sorceress War nearly twenty-three years ago had taught him a few useful things. For one, the nation of Galbadia proved to be a very fickle mistress indeed, even when changeability could not be afforded in times of war.

In the days following Sorceress Adel's ascension to power, a feat unrecorded throughout the world's history, Esthar began laying siege to various villages throughout its eastern regions. Those that fled to the western lands that were, then, untouched by Galbadia's hands, brought with them rumors that small children, particularly females, were mysteriously disappearing after the destruction of entire towns. Talk of such travesties, fueled with ever-present fear, spread like wild flames until it eventually reached the borders of Galbadia.

Martine had believed those such rumors only to be superstition, a silly fondness eastern civilizations clung to in times of despair. Even with such unsettling information from their rival nation, Galbadia was experiencing a time of peace, under President Deling's authority, despite the restlessness of rising rogue factions in Timber. What concerned the government most at the time was its technological advancement and conquest. However, turning a blind eye to the fact that Esthar was under the control of a Sorceress would have been poor strategy on behalf of Galbadia, especially when they were unversed to the true might of such a ruler. Such beings had been nothing more than the manifestations of lore, of the world's supposed conception by the creator Hyne who'd been an all-powerful sorceress. Soon enough, Galbadia would learn.

President Vinzer Deling, nearly a year into his induction, had stepped up and began amassing a sizable military force, generated from the men of conquered lands. Forming an equilibrium with the otherwise superior technologies of Esthar abandoned. Soon, the long war would end in Galbadia's favor. Having suffered heavy casualties and loss of resources, the nation saw a period of renovation.

Galbadia Garden was among the many changes for the nation at that time, manned by Headmaster Martine himself. He'd resigned from his high position in Galbadia's armed forces to focus his attention on his newly acquired academy, in conjunction with its creator Cid Kramer. However, he had an agenda separate from other gardens; they trained mercenaries while he cultivated tactical patriots. In the academy's budding stages, staying true to its original mission had been inevitable, what with the Sorceress War ringing clear to many, including Martine.

To remain neutral from the politics of the world and to protect the prosperity of his Garden, Headmaster Beaumonte struck a deal with Galbadia's National Security Administration, promising them new recruits upon completion of his academy and partial control over soldier dispatch commissions. The soldiers he'd trained as well as the cadets from other Gardens around the world had a choice to enter the Galbadian army system if they wished. It seemed the perfect bargain. Deling's army could still flourish with Martine's abundant supply of men, and Martine could be left with some liberty regarding the dealings of his own academy.

Once preparations for an imagined counter-strike by Esthar were complete, the president too, began mimicking the actions of Sorceress Adel. Only, his target differed greatly from hers. While Adel sought after small children, Deling pointed his fierce army toward the sorceresses themselves, regardless of their involvement in the war, of age, nor if she had any progeny. As an obligation to defend the world from a sure evil, Deling murdered countless of Adel's kind from within reachable boundaries, all to assert his fearlessness of Esthar. However, upon the aftermath of the Sorceress War, the great nation to the east had vanished under very mysterious circumstances, an entire city gone with no trace of its existence, nor its war.

To this day, researchers believed it'd been blown away, leaving only a terribly decimated sea in its wake. Citizens believed it was the workings of Adel and other allied sorceresses that plagued the east.

Soon, the study of the Sorceress began, and it was during this time it became clear to Galbadia why Adel had been seeking out female children; she'd been looking for a successor, a suitable child who could embody such awesome power. Whether or not she'd found one to her liking remained unclear upon Esthar's disappearance.

"You called for me, Headmaster?" Martine barely even noticed the wooden clank of his door being opened, nor the faint footfalls of one of his cadet's boots.

Almost whimsically, he folded his hands behind his back and said, "Remind me again, Kinneas. Why _did_ Adel destroy countless towns and villages during the war?"

The cadet eyed his Headmaster with great perplexity. Small details of the Sorceress War, including the Purge, was something of a tabooed subject within the Garden, only briefly mentioned in official published texts, as if to bury one of President Deling's many indiscretions. It was also never a subject that Martine willingly invoked in all the years Kinneas had known him.

"To find an apprentice, sir," he answered curtly. The Headmaster's head seemed to perk at the response, titling only slightly toward the left. He stood there, before the large glass that encased the interior of his garden, separating it from the dim, lazuline skies beyond. Irvine guessed that the man was lost in another one of his journeys that his mind never seemed to have a restraint for.

With the cadet's answer, the breath of flames crept over Martine's skin again, threatening to burn him and his hard-earned accomplishments. Then, he nodded belatedly at what Kinneas had said, as if understanding for the first time.

"Precisely," was all the Headmaster muttered before delving back into his thoughts.

Now, many years after the war and the sorceress study, Galbadia found itself under the mercy of one such being. Like the passage of time, she gradually eased her way into the political structures of Galbadia, chosen by Deling himself to become his world ambassador. The event Ex-Brigadier Martine had witnessed, along with the rest of the highest-ranking men of the military, had been quite strange, and it puzzled him. The union had been a sudden, irrational one. Prior to the Sorceress War, Vinzer was an unpopular man in the eyes of many Galbadian citizens, a presidential fluke they called him. However, his victory in the war had swayed Galbadia's reserves about him, even after descending and imposing a tyrannical rule on the Republic.

But why now? Why had the president enlisted the help of a sorceress to ascertain his conquest? Surely the war did not serve as a mere focal point in Deling's reign; it should have been a reminder of what sorceresses were capable of, especially with the support of a government and military behind her.

The second lesson he learned was that history tended to repeat itself. He couldn't help but to feel that Galbadia was moving in the general direction Esthar had. The newly appointed 'World Ambassador' would not settle for the backseat as her throne. No, she had another motive in mind. What it was, Martine could only speculate.

"I've an assignment for you, Kinneas. . . ." The headmaster finally faced his student, recognizing the man's talent and how it had formed, unbridled and adeptly, through the years. He had many students at his garden like Kinneas, but not with quite as much finesse. Martine would be damned if Galbadia Garden was stolen from him by the hands of a sorceress. He had to protect its prosperity, its _life_.

Immediately, Kinneas saluted his superior, placing his left hand upon his heart. It was a sincere pledge Martine had established for his students, denoting that through unrest and tranquility alike, one must never forget what it was they fought for, and that in most circumstances, it was for themselves and and their country.

"Deling's battle for Caelum is well underway. Tell me, what do you know about the Lunar Massacre?"

At this, Kinneas flicked a curious eyebrow up, but answered nevertheless. "It was when the moon disappeared over Centra. Countless researchers had been murdered by unknown circumstances."

Proudly, Martine relinquished a grin to Irvine. "But alas, She returns. . . ." The headmaster came around his desk, hands formally locked behind his suit top. "Major Biggs has sent in a report not too long ago. The SeeDs have brushed his men back from Caelum's battlefield." He handed Irvine a thin envelope detailing the tasks he was to perform. "These are your orders, you are dismissed." Silently, Irvine nodded in acknowledgment of his undertaking and left Martine to his thinking.

Once the first piece moved would the waiting begin.


	3. Divinity

_**Divinity**_

Caelum's only functional body of government resided solely within The House, with Senator Bell at its head. Intel had confirmed the organization consisted of a select group of men, rebels that had fled from the neighboring town of Timber during the Conflict. Here, they sought to provide Caelum with enough resources and military independence to ward off any future strikes that would surely come by the Galbadians. It was their call for redemption so to speak, but Squall and the rest of the city knew, even if they wouldn't readily admit it, that The House had failed in their mission, miserably. Civilian lives were being traded in for the House's own interests.

Had Squall not been so lenient and denied the injured militia medical aid, they'd have died, along with their freedom and weakling governing system. With some of his men working to restore the wounded as well as the surrounding area, upon Quistis' request, Squall was left to face The House himself. Nearly an hour had passed since Galbadia's retreat, enough time for Senator Bell to finally call for the SeeD Commander to discuss, what Squall hoped, would be the terms of their release, ending the contract. However, as the outdated carrier wagon passed through each damaged, upturned rubble that barely passed for a street, Squall began to think his stay here would be much longer.

Outside, the cluttered roads of fallen buildings were nothing but rocky dirt trails, leading up to small huts of housing where myriads of metal scraps and wood clung together to make adequate sheltering. The people congregating outside of the settlements turned cautious and weary eyes toward the moving vehicle. They too resembled their homes, wearing thick patches of clothing thoughtlessly woven together to stay warm in the chill of foreboding rain.

"Yep, this is all that's left after the witch hunt," explained the chauffeur. He was a chatty individual, irrespective of Squall's reserved manner and unwillingness to add to the conversation. The information the driver provided was mostly worthless to the Commander. They were annoying little sentiments of the town and how it never flourished, but remained capable, before the time of Deling.

It'd been right up there with Timber, but on a _much_ smaller scale, of course. When Deling had ordered the murder of sorceresses, Caelum had been no exception. Now, it was only the result of a broken and dying city, just waiting for its final day to arrive. In between that time, the people had learned to utilize the land around them against any enemy that threatened their homeland. They'd become quite adroit mechanics, salvaging lost Galbadian technologies that were leftovers from the war in the surrounding forests. They'd used the excavated weaponry, dismantling and condensing the salvages into what Caelum was now: a heap of quondam, but usable metal.

"See this main road here?" the driver continued, sending Squall further into a brooding disposition. "It's the most difficult to travel over, and these back roads here lead to The House. It's the perfect defense for the enemy, you know?"

Apparently, Caelum hadn't learned much of its enemy during each invasion. The Galbadian Military never entered a battle on foreign territory they knew nothing about. Squall doubted they'd have any trouble finding The House because of the damaged pathways, and if, by some miracle they didn't, it wouldn't matter. They'd just blow a hole right through it with their artillery, probably without even realizing it.

"And right here is our trading district. . . ."

The chauffeur whom Squall never learned the name of slowed the sputtering, clunky machinery considerably, for a tourist-like affect. Citizens yelled from the rooftops of their homes and below where their rickety selling foundations stood by the support of other like stands. A pair of small children, bearing soot and dirt on their faces, and raggedy clothing, playfully dueled each other with metal rods. They waved at the driver and ran barefoot across the road to let him pass.

"You can get a lot down here, especially you SeeDs. I'm sure you've got a lot of valuables to trade. You wanna . . ." The chauffeur looked to Squall and saw his immediate disinterest. "Never mind. . . . ," he finished.

As Squall continued to take note of the shambled district, a question he'd been pondering before came to his attention.

"Trade?" he simply asked the driver. The man burst out laughing, honking his horn to alert a small group of people of his presence.

"I knew you were interested!" When Squall didn't say anything, he further explained. "Trade is what we do. The border's been closed for Hyne knows how long, you know? Got to make a living some way. . . ."

This worried Squall. Though the city's interior easily exemplified its lack of affluence, his headmaster had carefully worked out the details of the contract, insistently requesting monetary payment values. It was a known protocol when hiring SeeD. Quistis had mentioned that Caelum's internal medium of exchange was nothing more than a balance of sell and trade. After becoming isolated from the world for so long, with no commercial transactions existing, The House built their town on intragroup bartering alone, having no need for much more. It would be a matter Squall would take up with The House upon arrival, just to be clear.

They were "self-sufficient" as Quistis described, but Squall had a very hard time believing Caelum was capable of operating on trade alone. And he had good reason for his uncertainty, all he had to do was look around to reaffirm. On the other hand, Squall knew Cid not to be above alternative negotiations, but only ones of economic value that would benefit Garden. What Caelum could possibly have to equal the desired payment for SeeD, Squall could only imagine.

As the driver continued on, the graveled path began to split, the left leading to other linked roads, and the right circling around to the only manufacturing mill in Caelum. It stood at least forty feet tall, run-down with flickering factory lights, and four rusted structures that seemed to break into the overcast sky. Below, its reflection rippled atop the murky enclosure of water. The building appeared to be deprived of any life whatsoever, but Quistis had informed that it was their only means for weapons manufacturing, and just about everything else made of metal in town.

"That's where we smelt the ironsand, it's usually a job for the exca—Oh!" The driver pulled the vehicle into a screeching halt. "Speak of the damned Diablos!" Squall surveyed the group of burly, raucous men standing just at the road's crossing. The men, he guessed were what had caught his escort's attention. Among them was a young girl, around the same age as Squall, dressed in the rags and patches of the other civilians. She seemed misplaced amidst the congregation of burly men, carrying with her a rather beat up wooden wagon. When the girl noticed the escort car, she quickly grabbed the handle of her wagon and ran toward the driver.

"Hey!" she greeted, coming along the side of the car. Her carrier creaked and rattled before coming to a complete stop. Inside were an assortment of fruits and vegetables, how well preserved, Squall could easily guess not too well. "Dante, roll it down!" she ordered with a casual giggle.

Squall noticed the girl, too, had soot plastered on her cheeks and on her partially gloved hands. It was expected if she too was an employee of the mill.

"Hey, Autumn. What are you, on another salvaging hunt?" the driver named Dante asked. He rested his arm atop the wheel, further vexing Squall. There was a meeting to be held at the House in a timely manner, and this guy wanted to converse and goof around.

"Yeah, they're sending us out of the Timberlands," she replied somewhat deflated. "I don't know why, we always have problems out there."

"Well, we must be getting low on extractions. That's all it could mean," Dante explained. The girl nodded her assent, then shifted her peculiar amber gaze, the color of gold, toward Squall.

"This man right here is one of the SeeDs that drove those blasted Galbadians out of here!" Dante unnecessarily introduced. He honked his horn twice in unrestrained pride for Caelum. The girl named Autumn came around to Squall's side. He watched as she bowed to him numerous times, thanking him for winning the battle.

"Thanks for securing the Square!" she said graciously. Her eyes met his again. "Please! Allow us to celebrate in you and your men's honor." She seemed to be waiting for his reply, which Squall did not give. Autumn then nodded in understanding of his reserved manner and looked deeper in to the wagon for Dante. "Keep out of trouble." The girl saluted to the driver and he cackled.

"Same to you, kid," he replied. The men Autumn had been standing with called for her.

"Come on, girl!" one lanky, pale excavator yelled. Another shot out spit from his mouth, burying it into the gravel with his boots. "We gotta get going!"

Awkwardly, Autumn bowed again, ran for her cart of food and headed away from Squall. When they were clear to go, Dante accelerated into a swift left turn. Soon, the stalwart government building Squall had been anticipating came into view. As they neared, its detail resembled that of an old and gray cathedral, with its many stone arches and murky glass windows. The face of the building seemed to gaze out into the distance, toward the town's square that now lay in a demolished clutter of men, buildings, and roads.

The vehicle came to a final stop, as did the driver's talking. Squall irritably nodded off his thanks and exited. "They can be a scary bunch on their bad days," called Dante. Squall did not acknowledge his remark, and instead straightened his suit and used the marble steps leading into the House's foyer. Inside, simple protocol that SeeD were overly familiar with took place. Two suited men whom Squall perceived to be precinct officers, the only other force aside from the militia, checked his uniform. When he received clearance, one simply directed with his hand the path that would lead to the House's council members.

Squall's boots clanked on the marble flooring, a long and hollow beat, echoing down the darkened hallway, playing out a tune of solemnity. Small sconces with bulbs were the only source of lighting, and as Squall made his way down the straightforward corridor, he found that the cold, obvious change of atmosphere was attributed by what lay waiting for him behind the wooden double doors before him. Automatically, they opened, with Squall having to only step forward.

Darkness surrounded the ring of gentlemen, seated atop pedestals that, too, were shrouded in black. From what Squall could see, there was a small space for him to stand before them. The council members' faces were partially disguised, a dim yellow light traced the lines around their facial structures, leaving their eyes to appear like two endless voids, black and lifeless. The one on the far end cleared his throat. It sent a shock wave throughout the otherwise silent room. As if to cause further disturbances, the man spoke, his voice a booming clap of thunder.

"We've word that your men have pushed back Galbadian forces away from the Timberlands. Is this correct, SeeD?" he asked to which Squall nodded.

"Correct. My men have thoroughly scanned the areas where the Galbadians would most likely retreat to. We found nothing, except two supplies vehicles just a mile outside of Caelum. They were emptied, one with a busted tire." Squall stopped there, feeling the urge to leave out the dead soldiers as necessary. The House was paranoid enough, wording was key to keep them calm. "My partner has concluded that it may have been an isolated ambush lead by a team of resistance factions, or perhaps . . . your men."

The question was left to pass over the men before falling away unanswered. The members all seemed to regard Squall with mutual mistrust and negotiation. When no one broke the silence, Squall continued his report.

"As of now, our medics are at work aiding the militia and the rest are doing all they can to restore repairable damages." At this, Squall mentally sighed. He felt the annoyance creeping into his voice, and made a note to maintain his composure. Supplies were becoming limited, especially medical aid. The contract specifically stated that the result of the battle was of none of the commander's concern, only the combat itself. If so, his SeeDs would have been adequately prepared. Besides, rebuilding the central square would take months, and his men that were present were no architects.

Now, the one closest to the middle spoke up. "Can you be certain the Galbadians will strike again, SeeD?" Squall paused, acknowledging the fact that he'd have to be completely honest with the council members. Paranoid and panic-stricken or not, they needed to know the truth for optimal and favorable defensive strategies. Squall just hoped they wouldn't drag him in any further.

"By my conjecture, I am certain the Galbadians will advance again, perhaps supported by another platoon," Squall answered solemnly. He'd have to ask Quistis for her speculation on Galbadia's breach of their intrusion treaty. Squall knew the Senate would not answer him truthfully.

"Because SeeD is here. . . ." one trailed. The member reached a hand to his chin, caressed it and then turned in his chair. Another said, "And what is our chance at another victory, alone?"

". . . Zero. With the militia down, and only an estimate of twenty able men, the Galbadians will undoubtedly—"

"—What does that mean for us?" a council member asked to his kind. Squall stood by, trying to sift through the possible reasons why Galbadia had invaded in the first place. Quistis had told him that President Deling had allowed for Caelum to keep its sovereignty after the Purge, but under what circumstance? And what did it mean for Caelum if Galbadia violated that promise? It struck Squall as odd that such a ruthless dictator would even grant such a conquerable land leeway. Perhaps even Vinzer realized , and now he was stepping back on his word.

"SeeD, what do you suggest?"

Squall nearly laughed at such an absurd and meaningless question. Whatever advice he'd offer would do little to protect their freedom. His time here was nearly completed, and his Headmaster would not keep his SeeDs in a hopeless dump like this. It was bad money, and even worse business regarding Balamb Garden. More casualties and injured men, even more loss of money. The question was also complicated to answer. He knew they were coming around what the SeeDs could possibly do to fight back the Galbadians again. It was the only lifeline they had. Squall wouldn't have any problems charging into another meaningless battle, after all, it was his duty, as long as his contract was not breached, and his clients weren't trying to gouge out any more from Garden. The whole business made Squall uneasy, and trusting his instincts usually worked out for the better. Something wasn't right.

"A complete and utter surrender. No more bloodshed and death. Honor lies in protecting your people," the SeeD added. However, his words seemed not to convince the council members. Instead, their faces seemed to grow more hardened and disrespected.

"You are standing in the land of Caelum, SeeD!" one screeched. Others nodded in agreement. "We are proud, surrendering is for fools!" Squall said nothing as the voices of the House gathered in a chorus of praise.

Idiots.

"There are not enough of your men to secure the perimeter, nor to man the weaponry. The Galbadians will most likely force their way through, using the same entrance, and comb through the square with little effort. Within minutes, they will have occupied Caelum," Squall countered. He hoped that dose of reality would set in.

"Then SeeDs are to to aide us once more." The words Squall feared finally came to fruition. Had they even discussed with his Headmaster their plans to further disrupt the contract? And with what method of pay? "Use your best judgment in warding off this attack."

"The contract? We've overstayed our welcome. The upcoming battle is no longer our concern."

"Ah, yes, your Headmaster's contract. Surely, a new contract will suffice."

"Not without the consent of the Headmaster, and an official meeting on your behalf," Squall argued, spouting the words of Garden protocol. Cid was no fool, surely he wouldn't have accepted any terms of Caelum's hiring SeeD if it did not settle right with him. By just speaking with them, Squall felt as if they were dipping and dodging away from any SeeD prescripts, searching for any type of leverage that would keep them with the upper hand. By contract, SeeDs were never to abandon their missions, even from clients as wary as the council members. There had been a time when two commissioned SeeDs set out to Centra never to return, the circumstance being that they were sent to their deliberate deaths. That had also been a shady dealing, since then, revisions had been made to future contracts, but only a few. It'd been a troubled time for Cid, sending SeeDs to their death an action he could still recall vividly. Even so, Squall would stand to fight, but at heart, he had the interests of Garden to consider, as well as those of his Headmaster's. Becoming so perturbed over the matters of the council members called for a meeting with his most trusted partner. Quistis had a way of ascertaining information that no one else could, he was certain she would find more on the council members.

For now, he would have to ignore the breach of contract.

"The price has doubled," a council member stated. At this, Squall raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What exactly is the method of pay? This town is built on trade alone, correct?" With no generation of money, how _were_ they paying for SeeD?

"That is a matter only discussed with your Headmaster—upon his wishes. We are sure he will oblige." Silence. ". . . Another meeting shall be held by noon tomorrow to discuss our options and defense. We trust that you, Commander," this was a first, calling him by his title, "will guide us to another victory once more."

* * *

The erratic tremble of the neon truck rolling over the craggy terrain of the Timberlands constantly knocked Autumn out of her thoughts. Then, when the road seemed clear enough, the interruptions would eventually melt into the mere hum of the truck's motor and the chatter of her crew. Soon, their conversations would fade somewhere far off, in the opposite direction of where she would be transported to. Her mind tended to do that—collapse into itself—revealing to Autumn bits and pieces of memory that she'd tried suppressing numerous times. Slipping into her own solitude wasn't so fun, and neither was running from it, perpetually constructing barriers and distractions just so she wouldn't return to that time. Instead, she'd mumble a melody that had stayed with her since before she could remember. It was a lulling, mysterious tune that, at times, transformed into her very own lament and means of escape. Sometimes, a face that seemed so familiar to Autumn that it provided comfort would appear just as the melody had. It would smile through the void, and then allow itself to become swallowed by the blackness before—

"Well, that's one battle won. What the hell are we gon' do when those Galbadian asses come at us again?" the stalwart, burly Deen questioned openly. His massive left boot rocked back and forth by the force of the truck and by his own unconscious thought. Melvoric, considerably younger than Deen's forty-seven, let out a cackle.

"Use those SeeDs again. See, they ain't here for nothing," he answered, throwing a lanky soot-covered hand into the air. Autumn hated being dragged along with the salvaging crew, especially when their raucous and unnecessary conversations and mannerisms tagged along as well. However, she supposed it was only appropriate. They talked loud, handled the monsters that pervaded the perimeters of the Timberlands fairly well, and were stupid enough to take on a job such as excavating, all for the sake of the House. They'd receive free room and board, even treated like the militia of the town. Still, Autumn knew death measured to none of the benefits they received. She'd much rather just continue to sell her fruit, instead of trekking dangerous land in the name of providing the town with metals that could protect and defend.

"Ain't half bad, those SeeDs. I still don't trust them, though!" Leggus, the short one sitting atop a small crate filled with equipment chimed in. His black bandanna, shielding his well-kempt hair, began to slip and he immediately went to tightening it.

"Why not?" Autumn suddenly asked. Her crew turned toward the diminutive voice, possibly wondering why she'd even asked such a question.

"Because!" Leggus simply said, turning his head toward the blurred trees.

Melvoric's deep-set, sun-baked eyes landed on Autumn incredulously, but it was Deen who would provide her with the answer.

"SeeDs don't give two shits about us. They'd sooner turn to Galbadia if the profit's worth more than their high, almighty asses." Deen banged his hand against the side of the truck twice. "Ain't that right Ren!" The driver he referred to honked his horn, annoyed at every time Deen did that to his truck. "You, little girl, are naïve if you think those magic-using freaks are your friends."

"Savior of the day," Leggus mocked. He held his hands up as if in prayer and turned to Deen. All except Autumn engaged in monstrous laughter. "But, I'll tell you one thing," Leggus struggled to get out, "they'd dirty their hands before I would!"

Autumn turned her attention back to the metal flooring of the truck, where her own legs were scrunched up and held tight by her arms. The emerald, severe eyes of the SeeD she'd seen while trying to market her fruit suddenly appeared to her. They were like precious gems the way they glistened with the angry, red flames in the distance blowing embers at them. She didn't know anything about him, or if he was even a reinforcement, but she knew she'd never see eyes like that again. Caelum held no person like that SeeD, and even though the reality of it was true, somehow, the city had called to him and he'd come, if only for that brief second. Perhaps chances like that would come to Autumn as well. She needed to leave Caelum. She had to keep moving, keep building bridges for her escape, and if she didn't she'd surely find herself in a situation she certainly couldn't get out of. When the SeeDs had come to keep Caelum's freedom in the hands of the House, Autumn knew her time was near. With the little relief their victory had provided, the Galbadians would be back again, and the battle would be an uncertain one.

"There she goes, back in that head of hers," Deen mentioned. The crew looked her way, but she was soon ignored as they returned to idle chatter. Autumn felt herself tumbling back into her memories, only to be saved a few seconds later by her own humming. Suddenly, she felt the pull of the truck as it slowed to a stop, nearly jamming her side into Deen's outstretched leg. The brakes creaked and the tires kicked up dust and rock. Leggus, who'd been practically shoved off the crate stood and turned toward the front, ready to complain. When he didn't say anything, Deen raised his colossal form to investigate.

"What the hell was that, Ren?" he asked. Alarmed, Melvoric was quick to act. He fumbled over to the crate, ready to pull his firearm from the crate.

"Is it a Wendigo?" he screeched. Deen shushed him, swishing his hand backward to motion for everyone to stay down. Then he followed.

"All right. We've got an unknown vehicle headed this way," Deen explained commonly. Mimicking Melvoric, he reached for his own weapon and motioned for Leggus to do the same.

"Vehicle?" Leggus screamed in panic. "That's a damn train!" Autumn wanted to look, but she knew better than to disregard Deen's orders to stay put. How could the vehicle be a train if there were no tracks in the Timberlands?

Deen took another look, inching upward toward the head of the truck. "There's a Galbadian APC following close behind. . . ." Soon, the silence of the still air was cut with blasts of close-range bullets firing and striking metal. The crew dipped to the floor, Deen commanding Ren to back out and head back to Caelum. Autumn changed her position so that she was face down. As she did so, she noticed a small glimpse of an object Melvoric was clenching and cursed it.

"No way," Ren yelled back. "There's another Galbadian carrier, they might spot us!"

"Dammit!" Deen kicked the sides of the truck in frustration, positioning his rifle so that it pointed toward the sky. He would use it if needed, but they all knew it wouldn't be enough.

"We gotta use it!" Melvoric suggested hastily. More shots rang out, this time breaking glass. "Deen!" Melvoric called in his own panic.

"Shut up and do it!" The truck swerved violently, nearly tipping over from the aftershock of what felt like a powerful level three fire spell. This caused Ren to act. He backed the truck up with much force that Autumn and Melvoric both slammed forward into Deen. "Get this tank moving!" Deen ordered. Melvoric pulled Autumn by the collar of her over-sized coat, and she struggled to get free.

"We have to, girl," he stated before pressing her head to the floor.

"Hurry!" Ren said from the driver's seat. The truck came to another stop. Melvoric placed the rectangular device he'd been holding to the back of Autumn's neck, her arms squirming about.

"The sooner you take them out, the better," Melvoric soothed. He watched as the device seemed to come alive with a brilliant azure light, splitting and cracking until the pieces fragmented into energy only. Then it snapped and bit at the air before drilling into Autumn. She screamed and kicked, and Melvoric fell back, sucking on the thumb that had been shocked by the electric-like blue mass of energy. When it dispersed completely within Autumn's skin, enveloping the light with it, the fruit-seller jerked and in seconds she was standing, balanced despite Ren's constant backing up the truck. Her eyes that were once amber, shared the same hue as the energy she'd just absorbed. Without notice, she looked toward the crew as if curious and then catapulted out of the salvaging vehicle and into the air, causing the rest of the men to jump back from fear.

As she came close enough to the sky, nearly touching it, Autumn felt waves upon waves of prickling, foreign magical forces fall over her body and mind. She let out a beastly growl to welcome the mesh of pain and pleasure. Her feet suddenly crashed into the ground, and yet, she was still standing with little effort. The barrage before Autumn threw her into such a rage that she felt her veins channel enough of the energies to her fingertips. When she pointed, a ray of pure bluish-white fire sprouted from her, ramming into the first APC. The orange carrier skidded askew, leaving black tire marks before exploding into a fury of crimson flames. Autumn soon found herself racing to the other vehicle, feeling her heart constrict and pound into her sternum with such speed she nearly suffocated. However, she couldn't bring herself to stop the feeling of energy surging throughout her body, numbing her thoughts, her memories, even if it pained her.

When Autumn was close enough, the bullets were soon aimed toward her. She dodged them as they drilled into the air, some nipping at her skin, others missing completely. She felt nothing as she landed atop the second Galbadian APC, studying the frightful soldier that manned it. She sliced through the glass that protected the soldiers, only to find that they were pointing their weapons and preparing spells to dismiss her. Autumn crouched down, melted the driver's seatbelt by merely touching it. Bullets shot toward her, stopping short of her body and falling away, raining down into the ground. She pulled the driver from his seat, sensing the roiling energy of his own magical reserves, feeling the snapping texture of it, before hurling him into the air followed by a white cloud of explosive electricity, ending his life.

The vehicle nearly toppled over when Autumn jumped again into the air. She pulled from her mind the will to summon another portion of the energy inside of her, and it boiled up, leaving a scolding trail along her spine. The spell pelted violently out of her palms, pouring into the APC. The next thing she saw was the vehicle turned upward and it dispersing into a detonation the color of the blinding sun. As she completed her backward leap, she caught an overhead view of the train the APC had been pursuing. She couldn't stop here. Autumn _had_ to feel the release of another caged demon leave her body and fall away from her fingers.

The glass of the unknown train's window shattered when she pressed against it with her hands. Autumn crawled in, immediately aware of the sudden turn of atmospheres. The wind no longer tugged at her hair or ripped into her skin. Before her stood a simple table with objects clustered together in no particular manner. So she set it ablaze, sparing nothing, not even the potted plant in the corner where a figure stood, fiercely eying her.

She recalled his emerald eyes, but Autumn couldn't find it inside of her to admire them, she wanted to swallow them whole, to become whatever was concealed behind them. He raised his peculiar weapon, prepared to strike. Autumn did not move, only swayed, sending him a quizzical look, as if mesmerized by his gun and sword hybrid.

She suddenly felt a primal, insatiable need to devour him whole from the depths of her, to where the source of her energies resided. As quick as the demand came, Autumn was lounging toward the soldier she had once thought to be a SeeD. The train shuddered and buckled underneath the tremendous strength of her leap. It titled and collapsed to the ground in one hollow moan, throwing everything across to the other side. In midair, the familiar miasmic haze that blurred Autum's vision before crept inside of her. She felt the cold aches and gnawing pain rip at her bones and poison her muscles with acid.

Autumn's body propelled and slammed into the soldier's, the edge of his blade cutting against her hands, affirming that she still existed in that reality, that all she had done was by will alone. Her withering eyes came before his as they both were thrown to the ground, and when she felt hers clear again, they were immediately coated over with burning tears.

Then, he and everything around them disappeared into the void.


	4. Circumstance

_**Circumstance**_

By age fifteen, Quistis Trepe's aspiration of becoming a SeeD had been fully realized. It was like remembering a faint, indistinct dream when she conjured the image of her younger self staring over the rusted train tracks, and beyond at the haze of the monstrous mountains. How the air of the sea trapped itself around her, tangling in her hair, roiling in her mouth. She could still taste the salty winds of Wishborne District, situated just a few miles offshore from Balamb Town. It was a port annexed to the whole of Balamb Town, erected years ago when commerce was still a budding idea.

Wishborne was a place Quistis had trouble calling home, which, when put in to perspective, it was no surprise how she ended up at Garden. She'd been a gift—an astute, talented young woman, the lucky child—to her parents who'd realized the opportunity they'd chanced upon not too long after the adoption process was complete. It didn't bother Quistis as much that she was nothing more than a trophy, their pride and joy. However, she couldn't be stifled by them any longer, eventually straying away to utilize her intellect her own way. When she enrolled into Garden against their wishes, she'd become a bird set free. So much had been accomplished in so little time, a cliché Quistis found herself being reminded of time and again.

In an odd, nostalgic sort of way, Caelum reminded her of home, especially now that the skies were covered in a dark overcast. Among her very few memories of Wishborne District was the figure of its own sky, dark and foreboding the day she'd left for Garden. Recently, the absence of the sun brought her back to her days as a Garden cadet. Headmaster Cid had such high hopes for her as well as the first unit she'd been assigned to. Three of the four had passed the field exam and received their degrees as full-time SeeDs, inducted into the Garden Counterintelligence Committee, their main field of study.

However, Quistis took her degree further and trained to obtain her license as a Garden Instructor. That had only taken her three years in total. It was after this time she'd been able learn a little more about her partner, Squall. She'd only the traditional twelve months to prepare him for his field exam—one fleeting year before he became her equal, assigned to her squads on various missions. This realization gave Quistis a much-needed kick back into the present.

The caffeine-free coffee in her hand no longer sent up steam from the mug that contained it. Quistis didn't notice as she gazed out of her apartment window below at the congregation of Caelum citizens performing the daily chores they'd grown accustomed to. One old woman squeezed the last of her children's garments, the excess water spilling over onto the rusted metal shingle of the home below. The woman's youngest daughter dragged her older brother into the miniature downpour again.

Despite the suspicious, mistrusting eyes the militia as well as the Representatives of the House had given her and the rest of the SeeDs upon arrival, the townsfolk in this area seemed to accept her more, though still reserving their cautious nature. They were warm villagers at heart, hardened by the difficult, arduous lives they lead. The whole society of tinkering with metals and other natural resources gave the town a sort of humble charm.

Finding more information on Caelum hadn't been an easy task for Quistis. She'd look through many remote databases around the world, even unrelated sources, but all yielded little to no intel, only exhausted her. If she did find anything, they were facts she was already aware of. Throughout her SeeD career, during the peak of Galbadia's civil unrest, she knew Caelum to be an isolated, almost xenophobic nation, much like Esthar. No one could find the meaning behind its lasting independence, especially with President Deling purging every other nation within the Galbadian continent. Then, out of the blue, the council members of the House had contacted Cid, discussing terms of employment of his best SeeDs to help maintain their independence.

Quistis had simply thought it to be a perfect field experience for aspiring cadets when Cid had bestowed her with the assignment. So far, she'd been right. All that was left now, was clean-up.

A sudden rap at her door brought Quistis away from her study of the people outside of her window. She walked back toward her desk, where computer terminals and numerous wires lay strewn across the metal floor. She placed her cold coffee on the edge of her desk, away from documents and completed reports.

Squall's figure came before the doorway, his pale eyes betraying the feelings he tried to hide. As he came forth and she made way for him, Quistis could sense that he was annoyed at best. The SeeD shut her door and took a seat at her desk, opting to let Squall start the conversation first.

He obliged. "The House has requested an extended stay of the SeeDs," Squall stated, sounding so formal and unfriendly. Quistis continued to listen. "They want us to fight off another strike the Galbadians may be planning." Trepe's eyebrows furrowed with confusion. She crossed her leg and asked,

"What about our contract? We were only to thwart their attack once. . . ." she trailed. Squall turned his gaze from her to the modules behind her.

"Has the Headmaster contacted you at all?"

"No, not once. Why? Did the House speak with him?" Quistis swiveled around to the compact laptop before her, scanning through any recent correspondence. There was nothing. Only updates a training squad leader provided on the repair of damages in Caelum.

"They were just . . ." Quistis studied Squall, seeing in his eyes the reason for his loss of words. She couldn't help but think about his swift maturity into a SeeD, and now being the Commander of it, all before he even reached thirty. In most of her twenty-three years, she never thought Squall would want such responsibility. Perhaps Cid's pushy promotion couldn't have been avoided.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, taking note to his apparent distress. It usually took much coaxing to get him to open up a little to her, and by opening up, she meant him explaining his thoughts on the task at hand only. She knew nothing of his private life.

"The Senate breached the contract. They ignored the terms of it. They wouldn't hear of any other objectives."

"Should I speak with Cid on this?" Squall nodded, but before she could get started with the assignment, he stopped her.

"First, tell me what you know about the House. They've managed to hire us through means I don't know anything of. Has Cid discussed their terms of pay to you?" Quistis shook her head. Though she and the Headmaster worked in close quarters, there was little he shared about his clients.

"No, it was all kept private. Nothing to suspect though, he does that all the time." Squall dismissed her answer.

"If this town is built on commerce only, how can they afford to pay for our services?" Squall took a seat on the edge of his partner's bed, stomped. It _was _none of his business, but he didn't like to be uncertain.

"Well, Caelum's form of government is fairly new. The Council Members established rule just ten years ago, right when Timber seemed to be winning the war for their independence. They'd fled here along with a few of their followers and renovated the town to what it is today. . . ." Quistis rubbed the sleepy sensation from her eyes, finding that perhaps caffeine would have been needed in her wasted coffee fter ll.

She continued, "They closed off all of their borders for fear that the Timber Conflict would spread to Caelum. Since then, they've fallen below the radar. No international trade, no communication. Nothing. Not a trace has been found in my research. I've asked a few townspeople and they say communal trade is the only way they make a living. They have no desire for gil, some of the younger citizens don't even know what gil is." Quistis paused, hoping for some kind of reaction from Squall. He provided her with none. "With no record of spending by Caelum, it's hard not to believe that this network of commerce actually works."

"Cid wouldn't agree to deploy SeeDs for a few scraps of metal," Squall stated. Quistis agreed with his dubious words.

"We aren't to question the Headmaster's dealings, even if they don't make sense," Squall began to object, but Quistis stayed him with a finger, "and if our clients breach the contract. We have to deal with the situation accordingly and believe that Cid knows what he's doing. He wouldn't send us here if he knew we would be trapped."

Squall always had trouble understanding Quistis' unwavering trust for the Headmaster. Since the death of his wife, as well as the death of the two SeeDs he'd sent out, his mental stability had become questionable. When her advice didn't quell Squall, Quistis placed a reassuring hand on his knee. He didn't seem to mind, nor notice.

"I don't want to stay here any longer than you, especially fighting for a cause that may be doomed to fail. But . . ." She didn't want to say that she actually enjoyed speaking with the townspeople, learning of their pasts and thoughts on their own government. Though they found the House to be very secretive and even tyrannical at times, it kept them safe because of the much-celebrated militia. "But, we are SeeDs. Fighting for anything our clients believe in becomes our own plight."

Squall said nothing as her words presented no answers for his questions. He shared the same ideal as she, it was apart of the code of any SeeD. Laying down his life didn't concern him as much as the terms of his employment. Quistis, however, understood his frustration, especially when his services were being abused. He'd once confided in her, saying that he'd never become just a mindless puppet to his duties, despite the thin line between SeeD commissions and that of their clients. She also knew that that was what also bothered him. It was the sole time he had ever spoken to Quistis on a personal level.

"What do you want to do?" she asked her commander. Squall rose to his feet, folding his arms, characteristically pondering. He would fulfill his mission here, that was without question. There was nothing he could do until he spoke with his Headmaster. Until then, he was at the mercy of his clients.

"We'll start barricading the perimeters of the town square," he began. Quistis let a light smirk spread across her lips. She knew Squall would never back down from a fight, even if it wasn't his own. "Round any able militia and call in the SeeDs and cadets. If we want any chance of victory, we'll need to prepare for a preemptive strike." Squall headed for the door. "I want you to try your best to get into direct contact with Cid before noon tomorrow—at least until I'll need you at the front lines."

"Sir!" Quistis said, placing the back of her hand to the side of her face. Squall returned the SeeD gesture. "I'll patch you in with the squad leader in the Square."

Before Squall could get his foot out of the door, a young male cadet appeared, ready to knock. He was quite winded and perturbed.

"Squall, er, Commander!" he yelled, sloppily saluting to him. "The House wishes for you to come to the city gates! There's been a possible attack by the Galbadians!"

* * *

White steam from the incoming IC train billowed out from its sides, climbing over the platform to mingle with the evaporating rain. It's engine and geared mechanisms creaked and sighed to a halt, the automated voice of the conductor instructing people to board and dismount the train in a timely, orderly fashion. Many pulled on the front of their light coats to escape the dropping spring temperatures, scattering about to catch the next train or to leave the station completely. Rush hour extended past 1900 hours, mainly because Deling City never slept and because the webs of two rail lines that connected to other Galbadian major cities were only reserved for Galbadia's military and Garden. They were used for various commissions, closed off to common civilians for efficient transport.

While observing the bustling, lighted streets and enjoying the nightlife in the "hub" of Galbadia's very own capitol, Deling City, Kinneas had another favorite pleasure: the pursuit of women. The avenues and walkways were always alive at this time in the evening. Women were divinely appareled in form-fitting dresses and stilettos, in the company of their equally beautiful female friends. Sometimes, he fancied those who'd bat an eyelash but dared not approach him. Those were the ones that played hard to get until he advanced and the evening ended with the two in bed. Then, there were the adventurers, the ones who effortlessly came before him, exploring his intentions, but nonetheless allowing him to make his advances. They too ended up in bed by the end of the night

He'd had his fair share of women, all throughout Garden and in Deling. If the game still needed players, he'd be such, an avid teammate ready to woo the hearts of those he pursued, bring them on over to the "winner's side" he called it. Romancing women was not just limited to his free time, he squeezed it in anytime he was sent on a mission, no matter the severity of such. Sometimes, it was what kept him human, kept him in line, reminded him that his heart still beat. Perhaps his relentlessness was what earned him the title "Ladies Man" within his Garden, though of course it came second to his reputation as the Garden gunslinger, the "Cowboy" he heard numerous people refer to him as, shooting down his targets with such precision. The image wouldn't be complete without a woman or two under each of his arms.

At his notoriety, Irvine chuckled, while at the same time eying the lone female stewardess across the station as she kneeled to pick up a piece of paper a traveling man dropped. The woman's plump breasts and crimson lips were more than enough for Irvine to determine his next _pursuee_. The woman returned back to the reception desk, tucking a lock of brunette hair behind her ear. She must have felt his stare because she turned toward him and gave him an awkward, almost embarrassed smile. Irvine sent her an irresistible, Kinneas-certified wink, and waited for the next sign. She blushed, turned away and within a few seconds caught his gaze again.

Mentally high-fiving himself, Irvine suavely maneuvered his way to her, his slow gait sure to raise her blood pressure to dangerous levels. He planted an elbow on the stand separating the two, twisting his body to the side. A hand reached up and removed the black cowboy hat from the long mane of hair that was kept in a ponytail. It ran down the length of Irvine's back.

"Say, I couldn't help but notice my train is a bit late. Unusual," Kinneas recited, though the pick-up line did contain some truth.

"Um, what t-train are you taking, sir?" she asked him nervously. The stewardess tucked the same piece of hair again, though it hadn't moved from behind her ear.

"IC Line R," the cowboy answered. He flashed her an honest smile as she went to work tracking the train.

"It will be here in approximately one minute, sir," she answered him. Irvine laughed, shaking his head.

"No good, I don't have any time to take you out. Why's that, you think?"

The stewardess clearly couldn't sift for an answer quick enough, so to save the damsel from her own further embarrassment, Irvine laughed again, bowing his head, avoiding eye contact.

"Listen here, my name's Kinneas and I plan to be back in town in a few weeks, how about you keep your beautiful eyes out for me, ey?"

The stewardess seemed surprised at the mention of his last name, then her gaze became cautious.

"Listen to this cowboy," she began, this time with unanticipated venom in her voice, "I'm not interested. Why don't you keep _an eye_ out for my friend. She could be lurking around any corner waiting to gouge yours out!" Irvine placed his hat back on to his head, his negotiations here about complete. So he _was _quite infamous on the streets of Deling. Of course, he was used to running in to women that had been scorned by his intentions, their friend's as well, but they made for an easy escape.

Suddenly, another automated message rose against the noise of the station. "All passengers boarding the Intercontinental Train Line R, please gather all of your belongings and have your ticket ready. Intercontinental Train Line R has arrived. . . ."

Irvine managed to give the stewardess a wink despite her embarrassed turned angered glare.

"Guess that's me," he said, swiveling around to board the Line R. The double doors of the train slid open, allowing for passengers to exit. When all was clear, Irvine inserted his Garden-issued ticket card into the port located on the side of the doors. The small computer chirped and accepted his identification and waiver. Immediately, Irvine recalled the details of his mission, a second, less-damageable copy had been handed to him in holographic form. He was given permission to access the SeeD cabin behind the locked door beside the automated reception terminal. Partly because he was in the company of one. Galbadia, Balamb, and Trabia all had shared admittance, even if Trabia nor Galbadia trained their cadets to become SeeDs. However, it was Irvine's first time actually using one, and partnering up with a soldier from Balamb. From what he heard, SeeDs were very much like his kind, only their covert commissions took no particular side in politics and other interests.

His partner was said to be a female SeeD from Balamb, and from what he read up on, she was perfect for the nature of the mission. Kinneas had no complaint.

Smiling, the cowboy entered his specific code along with his ID number and the next door slid open to reveal a short hallway filled with wide gold-encrusted windows that overlooked the darkening skies of Galbadia. Below, the floors were carpeted with a serene midnight blue and an unusual carpeted railing to match. To the right was a single door that matched another a short distance down. Beyond was the sound of distant humming, and Irvine could only guess that it was his partner, one he presumed would be lovely.

He straightened his hat and dusted off his brown, fur coat before knocking on her door to introduce himself. There was a slight pause before the door opened to reveal a pair of innocent, cute eyes the size of the ocean and probably as deep as one. Her hair, a dark cinnamon (his favorite) fell to her collarbone, wet and freshly combed through.

"Oh, hi!" she enthusiastically greeted. The petite young woman wore a simple yellow night gown that stopped just short of her knees and exposed her slight shoulders and arms.

Blinking, Irvine felt himself say, "Well, hi to you too." She let out a giggle and extended her hand to his.

"Selphie Tilmitt. I'm sorry for this informal meeting," she laughed, throwing Irvine a gorgeously bright smile he thought only he could pull off. Their hands met in a firm greeting.

"Kinneas. Irvine Kinneas."

"Looks like you're the right guy then," she stated, sizing him up with her eyes. They released each other's hands and the girl named Selphie invited him into her cabin. The inside was just as nice as the hallway. To the left were two sturdy bunk beds. A plush, satin sofa that took up most of the rest of the wall was situated just in front of him. He noticed the SeeD's electronics were scattered on the sofa as well as the glass coffee stand.

Unaffected by the slight mess, Selphie moved a few magazines aside and motioned for Irvine to have a seat.

"I got caught in the rain at Balamb. Sure wasn't fun getting soaked in a SeeD uniform."

Though Irvine thought the contrary, he instead laughed. "I would imagine so."

"Anyway," Selphie continued, pacing back and forth to put things in their appropriate places, "We should hit Caelum by tomorrow afternoon." The SeeD stopped, furrowing her eyebrows. "That's so long though. . . ." Irvine watched Selphie in all her cute glory as she finally settled down beside him, easily forgetting her sudden disappointment. "Well, let's discuss the mission!" She thought for a moment, then smiled. "But first, I have to make sure you are who you say you are," she whispered, squinting her eyes and scrunching up her nose. "The Galbana lillies sure are beautiful."

Irvine, lost for a short moment, popped up in realization, saying back, "Well, it all starts with a SeeD." He wondered why she hadn't confirmed his identity at the door, but soon figured she'd been left confused and weak by his appearance. Excited again, Selphie clapped her hands together, striking Irvine with a peculiar edge. She was like a happy bomb ready to explode any moment, and he wouldn't mind finding out what happened if she ever did detonate.

"You know," Irvine said, making himself more comfortable on the chair. He gave her an all-knowing smirk. "It's hard to believe a stunning young woman like yourself is sent out on a mission like this. I must be getting set-up for something."

"Nope," Selphie spoke, shaking her head. "I'm on this mission with you through and through." For a moment, the two shared a friendly smile before Selphie interrupted it with an exaggerated, but cunning raised hand. "Shall we get down to business, Kinneas?"

Her sudden shift in attitude amazed Irvine to the point where he was at a loss for words. Surely, this was going to be an interesting mission to say the least.

"Should I take your silence as a yes?"

* * *

Rinoa barely felt the throbbing bruise on her forehead when she finally collected herself and took a look around. Everything around her lay in heaps of trashed equipment, documents and artillery. Nothing was left upright after their base had turned on its side and crashed into the surrounding trees. Some of the faction had been knocked out completely, but slowly, they began to awaken and gather their senses.

Rinoa used the nearest wall for support as she stood to gain her balance. The door that led into her private quarters swung in and out, hanging in midair. It nearly bumped against her, but she stopped its motion. She'd been attending to the burn mark that was now completely healed when the Galbadians started firing. Kal ordered for everyone to get down, and for Watts to speed the train up, but escape seemed impossible. It was hard to fire back when their base had no ports for gunfire. The next thing Rinoa knew, the glass in her bedroom had shattered inward as bullets sprayed in, slicing up her bed and eating away at the wooden wall where her closet once stood. Then, the control room had been set aflame, its force brushing stray chairs and papers back. Rinoa had managed to crawl out far enough to witness the terrible beast lunge itself toward Seifer, and then the train flipped and she'd hit her head against the back of an upturned piece of furniture.

The chaos still baffled her as she searched for Seifer among the controlled burning beyond the threshold. Zone was busy at work stomping out the small fires, having already offered those awakening a small potion. His eyes were focused with a hint of panic spilling away.

"Princess!" Zone called, immediately running to her side to assist in any way he could. She took his hand, finding that her left thigh was bruised as well.

"No one's too banged up," Kal commented. Watts was by his side, helping him to stand. The old man watched as Seifer laid the mysterious girl that had nearly cost the faction their lives on the floor, kicking away rubble and bullet shells. He had come away with little more than a scratch on his right eyebrow and a slightly muddled brain, much to the awe of Rinoa and Zone. "Who the hell is she?" Kal grunted out.

"More like _what_ is she," Rinoa added. The amount of power and energy emitting from the girl was like nothing she'd ever seen in her life. Not even a single SeeD was capable of such magics and destruction. She looked to Seifer for any explanation, but he was just as confused as the rest. "Seifer?" she asked, for further reassurance. He simply shook his head. It was difficult for him to believe that she was a sorceress of any kind. The ones he'd encountered were far more in command of their abilities, and if anything, the sense of control that the girl displayed should have frightened her at best. She instead seemed to be . . . possessed by the massive energy.

"All right people," Kal interjected. He removed his arm from Watts' shoulders and eased his way closer to the rest of the Forest Owls. Watts went to aid the remaining other two members who were having trouble bandaging each other. "Stay on your toes, those damned Galbadians might come after us again."

"Actually," Zone spoke, "there's no trace of the APC's at all. They just . . . disappeared." Annoyed by Zone's mystification, Kal swatted the reply away.

"They're out there, dammit," he muttered. Rinoa found herself inching toward the sleeping woman, taking note to her baggy, soiled coat and how it swallowed her figure. She wanted to get a better look at her face, but Rinoa stopped where she was for fear that the woman would awaken to finish her job.

With no way of investigating the surrounding area they'd all crashed into, Seifer came around to the front. "What do you got in mind, Seifer?" Kal asked.

"We need an exit," the blonde replied. He lifted his hand and summoned a fire spell strong enough to blast a hole through the lifted floor of the train. The bright explosion shot through, creating a hole large enough for them to crawl through. He summoned two more.

"Hey!" Zone complained, attempting to stop Seifer. He hated when he damaged his property just for the sake of it. However, everyone gave him a look that pacified his anger. "Tch. . ." was all he said, consenting.

"If we're going to move, we need to do it now," Seifer commanded. He came around the room, offering the injured cures that he had stocked. Rinoa watched as he sent a ray of rejuvenating white light through Kal's body, and the old man immediately perked up, twisting his once sprained wrist for affirmation. The soldier came around to Rinoa after curing anyone else that needed it. "Where do you want it?" he asked. Taken aback slightly, Rinoa pointed to her thigh, figuring the bruise on her forehead wasn't as important. Seifer placed his fingers there and relinquished a cure. She felt its cooling, soothing affects, and moments later, her thigh no longer hurt.

"I guess we can still make it in to town then, right?" Rinoa mentioned, walking toward Kal to relieve herself of having to stand in such close proximity to Seifer. Kal nodded, fishing for any type of usable weapon that survived the flames.

"Yep, hopefully we didn't cause too much of a disturb—"

"—Uh, sir? I think we're being surrounded. . . ." Zone informed, his voice leaking with alarm. Seifer shoved him aside, peering out into the gaping hole he'd created. Sure enough, a group of no more than twelve men stood a few feet from their damaged base, toting rifles, some trembling. Seifer chuckled. They looked less like soldiers and more like frightened, pissing puppies.

"What now?" he called to Kal. "The town's come to us with their militia."

"Surrender now, you are surrounded," one of the militia men shouted. "Hands up or we will shoot." Rinoa came up behind Seifer, but he stayed her with his arm. A single shot pelted against a dented wheel of the train, causing it to fall. Rinoa jumped back, feeling her will to fight diminish. Kal neared the opening, clenching his own rifle.

"Stay sharp," Seifer said to everyone before raising his hands and leading the way out. Fighting the militia and then fleeing wasn't a wise choice. With no vehicle, nor supplies, there wasn't much the faction could do. Besides, Seifer wanted answers.

Kal dropped all that was in his hands, ordering for everyone to follow suit. "Whatever you do, don't tell them who we are. Not yet," he shouted back to his team. Uncertain, Rinoa allowed for Watts to step out next.

"This doesn't look so good," he whispered to her, before disappearing out into the forest beyond.

When the resistance faction poured out of their base, a tall burly figure stepped forward, pointing his gun equally at everyone. He scanned the men and women, then at their destroyed base.

"What's your business here?" he demanded, frowning at the team. Two more of his men drew closer, weapons at the ready.

"Just travelers," Kal answered first. "The Galbadians were—"

"Didn't ask for any of that," the man said, nearly slamming the tip of his rifle into Kal's jaw. The tower of a man turned and gestured for his men to come forth. "Arrest them all and search the vehicle."

More of the militia came forth, some equipped with metal cuffs, others with their guns and rapiers, ready to survey their base. They were going to find the girl inside, possibly one of their own. What they would think, Rinoa didn't know exactly, but she believed that the Forest Owls would be dragged into an inescapable mess on account of that girl. She watched as Seifer continued to stare at the armed men, his eyes hardened and severe. Perhaps he knew what situation they'd gotten themselves into because he'd experienced it before. Maybe the outcome wouldn't be a good one? That scared Rinoa, but she shook any naïve thinking out of her mind. She had to think like Seifer, like a soldier. Hyperion wouldn't save her this time; she needed to save herself. There was another exchange between Seifer and Kal, the same understanding between men she'd seen before. It appeared as if they both intended to be taken in without any fight.

The silence seemed to slip into hours as everyone outside of the base waited for the investigating militia men to come out. When they finally did, some carried with them the remains of the artillery they'd stolen from Galbadia, its insignia somehow unscathed. Kal closed his eyes and swallowed at the "evidence" they were finding that the resistance faction could very well be Galbadian spies of some sort. One by one, the militia roughly tied the Forest Owls, shoving them to guarantee that the cuffs were secure enough. The faction watched as a member of the militia carried the girl out, haphazardly holding her so that her head bobbed back and forth, swaying with her limp arms.

"Take them to the Ground. All of them!"

As the first droplet of rain fell onto Rinoa, she wondered if she'd ever make it to see her faction again.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks Jade Almasy for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far, though I'd like to know your thoughts on the characters if possible. Thanks for your support, it's greatly appreciated!

Til next chapter . . .


	5. The Covenants Between

_**The Covenants Between **_

"So you don't you use para-magic either?"

Somehow, the conversation had shifted to the subject of Irvine's Garden practices, with him barely even noticing. He and the SeeD, whom Irvine came to realize as being very similar to himself, were preparing their belongings, the train ready to come to a halt in about twenty minutes.

"Not an ounce of it," Irvine simply answered. It appeared Trabia too did not agree with utilizing the magical forces like Balamb did. Selphie admitted that the transfer hadn't been an easy one at first because of that differentiating rule.

Irvine placed his machine pistol into its holster behind his back. Selphie observed the myriad of sidearms attached to his vest, lining his torso. The sleek black and silver guns ranging from small single-shot hand guns to semi-automatics gave Irvine cause enough to wear his long, concealing jacket. The cowboy noticed her enthralled stare. "These are my babies. I can't really get used to them when Derk keeps handing me newer models, you know?"

The report hadn't been lying when it described Irvine as the exceptional gunman, the top of his class. The "cowboy" was as close as a client could get if they wanted a self-reliant, single demolition man, capable of taking out numerous targets within minutes, no matter the caliber of their skill or strength. He was a SeeD, just without the title. The way Irvine's fingers delicately moved about the bodies of his weapons with such swift precision was testament enough to his expertise. Still, Selphie wasn't quite sure as to why he needed all that heavy artillery. They were simply on a recon mission, nothing that would require such.

"Wow, they're really pulling out all of the stops, huh?" Selphie thought aloud as she placed a small folded terminal in the back pocket of her yellow jumpsuit. "We're only doing recon."

"It never hurts to be prepared," Irvine answered. He secured the last of his guns to a holster attached to his thigh. Selphie titled her head, wondering if there was more he wasn't willing to say. Soon, she dismissed it, knowing full well the different interests joint missions presented to those employed with it. Headmaster Cid as well as the Headmaster of Galbadia used these junctures for convenience, and whatever other commission Irvine had was none of her concern. Supporting him and carrying out their first objective was her main point of focus.

"Well," Selphie began, "the subject's location has been confirmed to reside in Caelum. She's been there for a few months." The two rounded up at the central part of the train, near its exit. They took note to being the only passengers aboard."Demilee. . . ." the small woman pondered on the subject's name for a moment, then lifted an eyebrow to her partner. "Why do you think they need two of us to track her? Isn't that town really small?"

Irvine swung his coat over his shoulders and slipped his arms through the sleeves. He had to admit, the SeeD sure liked to meddle and get the details in between. It wouldn't harm his objective if he spilled a little info, but still, he had his orders. "You nervous or something?" he opted to say.

Selphie shook her head, taking a moment to stare out into the passing sky. It lay hardened and gray, ready to shower the ground with heavy northern rain. "I don't know. It all just seems . . . a little much." The brunette shook her head again, erasing the daze she'd been put under. Her headmaster made sure to emphasize the covertness of their mission in the written report, however, Selphie wasn't entirely sure if such a task could be achieved with whatever plans her partner had with all of his firearms. Maybe she just needed to place more trust in Irvine. "I don't know," Selphie brushed her uncertainty aside, "the sooner this is over, the sooner we get to Centra, right?"

Irvine returned her ample smile and as the train slowed and eventually came to a stop, he said, "Right-o!"

Outside, the air was saturated with the smell of coming rain and they were hit with sudden humidity and stillness of an approaching storm. First, Selphie jumped from the train's exit, the yellow mini-dress she wore threatening to reveal more than her bare thighs. Her brown boots clicked and struck the brick of the platform below. Irvine stepped down next, reaching into his vest for the hologram plate he'd been given. He whistled.

"They say ain't nothing like Mindy's rain," he commented, referring to the name of the plain he and Selphie were now stationed. Caelum lay approximately twenty miles east in a virtually undetectable location without proper navigational equipment. Kinneas tapped his device awake, entering in numerous codes before any display appeared. Selphie watched as the grainy lights combined and formed letters above the plate, reminiscent of an actual computer screen. It was Galbadian technology Balamb occasionally borrowed but weren't reliant on. Irvine scanned through the report, sweeping the air with his fingers so that the words would scroll down.

"There's supposed to be a carrier coming soon, right?" Selphie asked, confirming the external arrangements Headmaster Martine had made concerning their further transport. "Man, what are they, newbies?"

"Eh," Irvine muttered at her impatience. He went over his updates. "Looks like they've beat us to it." He directed the hologram toward the sky, swinging his body as it tooted before sending out a laser signal into a nearby forest. "Our vehicle's in there," Irvine pointed.

"Awesome!" Selphie exclaimed. They made their way forward, and then a thought occurred to Irvine. These plains were overrun by hostile beasts and equally dangerous vegetation.

"I didn't see you equip any weapon," he said as they crossed the train tracks. "What's your specialty?"

"Well, if you're worried about the little critters here eating me, rest assured, Irvine! I've got surprises for them!" she happily exclaimed. He said nothing, amazed by her almost child-like exhilaration. It was a rare sight to see a SeeD Selphie's size with a personality to match. She'd certainly keep him on his toes, and maybe even provide him with the responses he wanted to hear when his carefully laid-out _moves_ came into affect.

Their vehicle waited for them a short distance into the forest. Again, Irvine whistled, this time at the convertible Cadillac. It's burnished, glossy body, now mottled under the shade of various leaves, was the color of a clear Galbadian sky.

"I'll drive us out of here!" Selphie volunteered, already bolting toward the driver's side. Irvine allowed her to, sliding into the passenger's seat. The new leather creaked and scrunched as the two positioned themselves comfortably. "I always wanted to ride a Tempest. The best in Timber!"

"Cars go under your specialty?" Irvine asked, half-jokingly. To his surprise, she nodded.

"Among other things" Selphie replied, giving him a cheeky grin. Irvine wasn't sure if the tiny SeeD had offered him an innuendo, but the smile that faded from her lips soon affirmed she was about business.

From her back pocket, Selphie pulled a white, plastic card and inserted it into the ignition. The convertible's engine growled to a powerful start, shaking the SeeD and gunman. Selphie was more than happy to rev the Tempest, then she switched gears, backing up violently. Irvine nearly snatched her hands up from the wheel when the butt of the car looked as if it would crash into a tree.

"You ready?" she asked, seeming not to notice his unbridled shock.

"Damn, girl . . ." Irvine breathed out. Selphie giggled.

* * *

Like cattle, the group of men belonging to Caelum's paramilitary silently herded the resistance faction deeper into their forest at gunpoint, nudging Zone and the others behind whenever they fell back a bit. The front flanks cut at the tall grass with their rapiers, clearing a path for all to walk through. Rain began to drizzle between the leaves, scattering the vigilant birds away from their perches. The girl whom the militia had extracted from the Base still lay limp in their arms, not even budging when rain hit against her exposed skin.

"How long til the Square's secured?" the infantryman far in front asked. For a brief moment, he eased his firearm. Seifer and Kal took note.

"That commander guy said sundown at the latest. Things still gotta get repaired. The main gate still needs to be hinged," another answered. So the SeeDs were preparing another defense? This struck Seifer as odd, considering the meaninglessness behind supporting such a useless nation. If SeeDs were so damned heralded for their abilities and intricacies, he wondered what people would say if they knew about their dealings in Caelum, stooping down so low. But of course, only the "bitter" would have such a view. At this, Seifer inwardly chuckled. He could hear Cid's words now, reaching over to him, resounding. So outdated and limitless. Not even a year had passed since he last saw the old man, but Seifer was sure nothing had changed, not even his answers to the Headmaster's questions. Maybe the time of Seifer's departure was something Cid had been expecting, hell, all of Garden for that matter. He fit the part after all.

_"You never liked holding on, Almasy_," the Headmaster had called to him, right before Seifer stepped through the door of his office for good. "_But yet here you are, holding on just as easily. How in the world do you manage that?" _

It sure as hell wasn't an easy question to answer, but Seifer supposed the old geezer would never understand. There were many things that could shatter a man, thrash his core, and so few could never go on beyond the reality, past his own meaning nor the obstacles. Only a weak, sad old man like Cid would ask him such a question, and actually expect an answer.

When the blonde laughed again, the mouth of a gun jabbed itself into his back. He stopped his advance.

"Keep moving," the owner of the gun behind him commanded.

"Don't touch me with that," Seifer growled. He clenched his bound fists, staying his feet. The rest of the line followed suit, Rinoa slightly coming away to get a better view.

"What did you say to me?" The man's eyes raged with newfound fire, no longer scurrying behind the protection of his superior. More like it, Seifer thought. "Get back in line, boy!" When he went to slam his rifle into Almasy's chest, he nearly toppled over by his unruly opponent's speed. Seifer seemed to bend backward swiftly enough to dodge the incoming assault, and within seconds, his forehead slammed into the soldier's and the pathetic fool crashed to the ground unconscious. Militia from the front hurried to his side.

"Seifer," Kal warned, widening his eyes and shifting them around to his team. Though Seifer could easily escape his capture, the rest couldn't and the aged man didn't want to secure his own freedom unless he knew his faction could follow. Kal was aware that the kid wouldn't agree to his team-oriented beliefs, but Seifer also knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't restrain him when the time actually came to act. Somewhat subdued by Kal's silent reasoning, Seifer moved onward, sending the same warning to the running militiamen. However, they obeyed, not wanting to suffer the same fate as their partner.

"Where do you think the Ground is . . . ?" Rinoa whispered to Kal as they neared Caelum's front. Her query went unanswered when they came before the rather tenuous, simple-in-design main gate. Two Caelum sentries were posted opposite each other beside the iron barrier. A rusted, run-down metal lining stretched far into the trees and brush on either side, creating a wall that prevented anyone from seeing inside the city. The scent of burning coal and tar pervaded the perimeter, irritating Rinoa's nose. She heard Zone's cough from down the line.

"Open up, Ket," the first infantryman ordered. Without a word, the two sentries unlocked the thin chains coiled around the gate's centers, then pushed the pegs underneath that helped it to stay in place aside.

"Proceed," one of them said, eying the company the militiamen brought with them. Silently, all filed in to the smoke-filled Square, some choking, others straining to see beyond the passing gray haze.

"Damn SeeDs, stinking up the place!" a sentry said from behind.

Rinoa watched as black figures seemed to manifest from the fog, the nearer they got, the more the smoke slid away from them, giving them more shape. She took note to the blonde woman that came forth, bearing a crisp, dark green military uniform. The blue of her eyes were shielded by a certain hardness, tightly guarded just as well as the grasp she held her odd whip by. The woman looked well-kempt, beautiful, and neat standing next to the stooping older male attired in flowing garments and an adorned headdress. At their appearance, a soldier stepped forth.

"Sir, possible Galbadians have been found within a mile of Caelum. We've apprehended them and found Autumn within their keep," the soldier reported. He gestured for the man caring Autumn's body to come forward. The other soldiers made sure to keep the resistance in line.

The Councilman passed a glance toward Autumn, the crevices around his eyes constricting. The aged man turned back to the informant.

"And what of Barut?" the councilman questioned, pointing with his chin toward the knocked out soldier being supported by two others. The militiamen turned back to their superior.

"That one over there, Chancellor!" the soldier screeched angrily. Seifer only cocked a smile, his eyes traveling over to the blonde woman that stood beside the old premier. "Should we place him under special arrest until interrogation, sir?" Before the Chancellor could speak, the woman he'd come with warned,

"That would be wise. . . ." Her eyes never left Seifer's, and he could easily see the surprise and disbelief she tried to conceal. So she'd been dispatched to this sorry town, and with whom, Seifer could only guess. Quistis hadn't changed at all, it appeared, but then again, Almasy was quite sure that the SeeD thought the same of him. Rinoa particularly noticed the strange turn of air between Seifer and that woman, but she didn't have a chance to ponder on it any longer as the chancellor dismissed the resistance faction to wherever they were to be taken.

Peeved, the Chancellor soon began walking the opposite direction, confiding into Quistis. "We've no time for this. Galbadia's poised to attack at any moment," he sighed. The SeeD said nothing.

* * *

Ellone's hand stretched forth, her fingers skidding against the cold, hard blackness, snagging on any piece of memory that drifted by. Within those bits of memories were dark spaces filled with familiarity, connections she had with people she'd met once before in her lifetime. They appeared to her in fragments, images that burned into her subconscious, that attached to her memories. Smiles, the colors of hair, mannerisms, all were of people she remembered.

They weren't aware of her, but she was of them. Ellone felt their consciousness breathing into her, filling her mind with warmth, beating with a newfound life. She continued to search through those spaces, hunting down any memory of the one she sought. There was a connection, yes, but an intangible, fuzzy one. She barely felt it there each time she arrived at the gray area just before the earliest memories of her childhood with her Uncle. When her fingers tried to cradle the small interference, it would vanish and move somewhere further. The consciousness seemed to seek her, yet it would not allow her to contact it.

It's name had not fully revealed itself to Ellone, but she could make out parts of it. An E and an N. That was all. Each time she was so close, the body of space would move again, draining her completely until she had to abandon it within her mind and wake up.

"Elle. . . Elle!"

Ellone shot up from the wooden table before her, her concentration and light sleep breaking away into shards, receding further inward. A child came before her vision, bronze light and the sound of the swaying ocean accompanying the image. The woman brushed her sweaty black bangs from her forehead, sending the girl a reassuring smile.

"What's the matter, Desna?" she asked the child. Desna looked on uncertainly, finding Ellone's exhausted appearance a bit frightening.

"It's story time," she simply replied, barely above a whisper. The girl turned her attention over to the other children gathering a short distance away, peering over the ship's railing to see the shifting waters. Ellone rose to steer them away from the danger. She grasped Desna's hand, leading her. "You don't like us very much, do you?"

Taken aback a little, but soon not completely surprised by the girl's words, Ellone knelt down to her. "Of course I like you, all of you. I've just been having a difficult time adjusting is all." She spread her arms out for the girl to be engulfed by them. Without hesitation, Desna ran for them.

"I love you Ellone!" she exclaimed, holding on ever tightly. Ellone breathed into the girl's hair, closing her eyes. It was a wonder how easily a child like Desna could so readily let another into their world, despite the circumstances they'd been placed under. Despite the world of death that lay parallel to sorrow. Once, Ellone had been so naïve, and now she couldn't help but feel as though fate mocked her. If only it were all a dream, a simple distant dream, she could easily accept the reality around her. Quite an unfortunate paradox however.

When Ellone opened her eyes, the gentle light of the sun descending into the gray below filled her soul with consolation. Though it was disappearing, she could still sense its warmth. Feeling its comfort, somehow Ellone perceived the connection between the illumination and the space that eluded her each time she tapped into her subconscious.

E and N.

She was getting closer to unraveling its identity and what that entailed, she couldn't be entirely certain. If it was the key to her freedom, she wished it would make haste.


	6. Metal Sky

_**Metal Sky**_

He revisited the downtown Deling City cabaret whenever his mind would allow it. Though Caraway was surrounded by the muted buzzing of the CPUs and the steady beat of the grandfather clock, a vivid melody would enter his ears, dismissing his anxieties, filling him with an unwanted nostalgia. The tune would seethe in, permeating through the walls of his office, invade his thoughts and thrust him away from his work, guiding him to _her_.

At the time of his greatest triumph as Brigadier, he'd met Julia Heartilly, an exultant parallel he'd thought he'd never experience. It had been right around the time the nation of Timber was organizing terrorist attacks against Galbadian outposts.

Alone, she sat behind the grand piano, her porcelain hands sliding delicately along its keys. Lazuline cloth flowed beneath her heeled feet and like water it toppled over the stage's steps, glittering champagne specks from the white spotlight above. The way Julia's dark eyes seemed to fade into a world that only concerned her music and the cigar-produced haze of the pub softened his core. Her crimson lips kissed his inner soldier, sending that part of him back to the Timberan battlefield, leaving only the sole man, Fury Caraway.

He'd never been so overcome by such potent desire to share his inner most secrets with the woman. She'd been an enchantress in his eyes, touched by perfection. When he finally did grow the nerve to speak with her, Julia had been in love with another soldier, one that had never returned. So she played her sad melodies, the jazz of the piano being enough to equate her tears.

Her heart had been stolen by another, but Caraway's disheartened pursuit didn't stop there. He seemed to be powered by her music and voice, even when she went mainstream throughout the Galbadian continent seventeen years ago. He'd helped her achieve success, by her side while she wrote each lyric, sculpting it into the song most knew her by today. Her popularity in Galbadia grew within days upon her first release, and Caraway had stayed with her through her rising fame, even when she'd given birth to their daughter years later.

Now, when he tried to picture his daughter, grown now, an exact replica of his wife, he'd see only her contempt and eyes filled with persecution. Julia's accidental death greeted Caraway and his child with years of quarreling, blame and misunderstandings. He'd simply buried himself in his work, escaping the haunting shadows that moved through his dreams and into his reality. Caraway supposed that his daughter sought escape in her own way as well, a perfect explanation to her rebellious nature.

All that he had done, and was doing for her was for the best. He could almost sense that his daughter was aware of that as well, as stubborn as she may be. His mansion these days were far too quiet, filled now with echoes of the past. Perhaps his daughter believed that her long-term absence was actually doing him a favor, after all, the arguments had ceased.

"General Caraway, sir?" Captain Wedge interjected. He'd let himself in Caraway's slightly opened door. The General pushed his back away from his chair, settling on the intrusive officer. Wedge's salute was crisp and filled with youthful inexperience.

"What is it?" Fury asked, reminded now of the present he was thrust back into. Julia's voice receded away, clearing his mind and burying the line that barely separated the past from anything else in his life. "You've reports?"

"Yes, sir," said Wedge, finding immense relief in Caraway's subtle tone. He presumed that the General forgave his trespass. "Major Biggs has now mobilized his company from the outpost and is preparing for the second invasion. The air fleet has been called on to lead a formation. . . . They're waiting on your orders, sir."

Caraway clenched his interlocked fists. SeeDs defending Caelum had not been a surprise for the General, however, he thought things would improve by the time the 9th air section arrived.

Uncomfortably, Caraway shifted in his seat.

"Have conditions improved within the city, Captain?" he asked.

Wedge gave him a perplexed look, trying to answer, though he didn't know how.

"The resistance faction? I was told insurgents from Timber interfered with the first invasion. Have they been neutralized?"

"Oh!" Wedge exclaimed, breaking his stiff stance. "Yes sir, though they may be within the city's perimeter still. They jammed our secondary communications line for a short while, but it's up and running now." Proudly, Wedge smiled, hoping the General would notice his expertise in weapons repair.

Caraway immediately recognized the irony now. His wife had acted as sort of a counterbalance to his duties as a General, and now, his daughter was simply the counter, threatening to unravel all that he'd built up, parrying his military operations with the resistance faction she'd run off with. Quite an opposition indeed. Fury laughed though, finding her headstrong attributes to be inherited by none other than his truly. The General couldn't keep sending his men requests for retreat every time he caught wind of his daughter's presence in fighting zones, Deling would grow suspicious, even in the strange mental state he seemed to be in these days.

"Send in the air calvary. I want the complete surrender of Caelum, as per Deling's wish," Caraway ordered. Captain Wedge saluted. "Dismissed." As he watched the soldier take his leave he pondered on his president's peculiar siding with no one other than a sorceress, an entity he once sought to purge from existence. Whatever the reason, Caraway wouldn't stand to see the nation of Galbadia fall by a blinded fool like Esthar had when the sorceress Adel had reigned.

The General needed to place his trust in himself and in his good friend Martine if he wished to arrive at the future he envisioned for his nation. He only hoped his pride for Galbadia would not end in tragedy.

"Rinoa . . . You must stop this. . . ." he whispered to the framed photograph of his broken family. The fluorescent light overhead concealed his face in the photo as he crouched beside his then five year old daughter, pointing for her to look toward the camera. He remembered how she feared getting sucked in by the lens. It was fitting, especially now when he felt himself disappearing from the inside out.

* * *

The Ground represented nothing more than narrow cobblestone passageways, dipped into the dull, moving firelight of surrounding bronze sconces. The fire cracked and bit at the stale, damp air, swaying about and casting large shadows against the hollow caged spaces that were prison cells. Rusted chains hung low, lilting ominously. They were attached to the different dust-ridden brick arches Seifer and the wardens passed under. He'd been separated from the rest of the Forest Owls, deemed a greater potential threat to Caelum's independence. Seifer couldn't care less what the pathetic town labeled him, though their precautions and weariness toward him did awaken a certain prowess inside of him.

The first warden, adorned in rags and a belt equipped with the master key to the different portions of the dungeon, stepped forward to open the main chamber. Seifer felt the spaces in his mind where his magic reserves were stored lift, causing faint dizziness. Though the place looked primitive and without sophisticated technology, there was an anti-magic field established. Seifer was a bit impressed, seeing as not even some modern prisons installed such a device. The engineering was still relatively new. The predicament stacked the odds against Seifer only slightly. They would need more than that to hold him here. If they only knew.

"How's about this one, sir?" the lesser scout asked his superior. The cell was situated against the right arm of an archway, half-lit by a single torch. It was accompanied by a similar cell to the left. The warden standing beside Seifer took a moment to survey the cell, finding its emptiness and wet floor suitable for his new inmate.

"This will do," he said. Then he turned to Seifer with an air of tempered superiority. Seifer was sure the man could sense that he was fully capable of kicking his ass with little effort, which was why the man kept a short distance. "Get in there!" the warden barked, tapping his metal baton against his wrist. Still bound, Seifer followed, but not before intimidating the men by jerking forward at them, sending them a menacing physical threat. As expected, they pulled back and as quickly as possible locked Seifer into his cell. "Whatever your business here is for," the warden began speaking, confident now that a barrier separated the two, "it ain't worth the lives of your comrades. There's a war going on, so tell your Galbadian buddies to retreat. We ain't going down!" He banged his baton against the checkered ward gate, creating a small spark.

"You all are done for. SeeDs can't help you bastards," Seifer merely replied. His cocksure grin boiled the warden, coercing him to beat against the cell.

"Shut your damn mouth, asshole! When this war is over, I'll enjoy killing you!" he screamed. Seifer sat down against the brick, his smirk unchanging. Then his gloved hands suddenly came loose from their bindings. He looked to each limb, feigning surprise.

"Wanna come tighten them again, shit-face?"

"You little—" The warden stopped in his tracks, daring not to enter the cage that had abruptly turned into Seifer's lair. His fiery eyes dissolved into nothing more than tamed fire when his superior stepped up from the incline.

"Make way!" the Head warden came forth from the shadows, carrying with him the sleeping fruit seller. "Open the left cell," he ordered.

"But—"

"The House's orders. She's a threat too, now come on! We're needed upstairs."

The warden before Seifer turned his attention astray, instead opening up the other gate. The girl was thrown onto the floor, dust sweeping up and passing over. A tiny black, object fell from the sleeve of the girl, knocking against the stones. It went undetected however, over the bickering of the guards. When the two wardens left, the third slammed the cell shut, then walked toward Seifer.

"I _will_ kill you," he growled, before taking his leave.

Seifer's eyes moved over to the heap that was just as poorly dressed as everyone else in Caelum seemed to be. He'd been inside the city's perimeters before right as the mercenaries were fighting off the Galbadian platoon. Kal had advised against it, but Seifer went on ahead anyway, defeating any soldier that challenged him, all the while making his way further into town. The real action had occurred within Caelum, not outside where the faction was waiting to take out a mere weapons supply truck.

He remembered the fruit-seller to be standing alone in the middle of the town square, unafraid as citizens were rushing about for safety. She'd been playing with the falling embers, mindless of Caelum's militia calling in for back up and medical aid. She was just standing there, selling fruit to no one, seemingly incapable of such awesome power she'd displayed.

When the girl suddenly stirred, Seifer wondered if she'd go into another fiendish, demonic, frenzy. He'd have nothing but his fists to defend him in case the anti-magic field could not restrain her powerful sorcery. Eying the familiar device on the ground, Seifer thought to reach for it, but was halted by her waking.

The girl struggled to rise, taking her time to gain support by her arms. When she opened her eyes, Seifer noticed the peculiar golden hue they emitted, brightened even more by the dimness of the atmosphere, as if they were . . . glowing. She appeared to be confused, at first overlooking his presence.

The fruit-seller looked around her, then realization set in. As quickly as she could, she wobbled to her feet, pressing her gloved fingers to the bars, pushing as if she'd never seen anything like it. Seifer watched as she panicked, pulling on the barricades. Here, she looked completely incapable of taking him down. She looked more human, girly even. When her radiant eyes finally settled on the man before her, her anxiety dissipated. She was alight with familiarity.

"You . . ." the girl trailed, recognizing his beautiful emerald eyes. "What are you . . . doing in here?" she asked, her neck rolling over the entirety of her imprisonment, taking in its detail. Then, her curiosity subsided, turning into a face of remorse. She slumped down to her knees, receding beneath the firelight. Seifer said nothing, trying to make sense of her. He watched as she crawled to a corner of the cell, scrunching her body up, hugging her legs. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry. . . ."

"What _did_ you do?" Seifer demanded to know, feeling his own tenseness settle a bit. She appeared harmless in her current position, almost childlike. Still, he wouldn't let his guard down, now that he knew what she was capable of. "What the hell are you?" Seldom he'd seen a sorceress at work. Most had gone into isolation after the Purge, choosing to stay hidden from the world. They'd easily become nothing but a passing memory, apart of lore children wrapped their imaginations around.

Seeming offended by his harsh words, the girl became erect, flames sparking in her illuminated eyes.

"I'm human," she announced fiercely.

"Oh?" the blonde responded. Seifer anticipated another sudden rise of anger from the girl, but instead his response went ignored.

"You're a SeeD, right? Why the hell did they throw you in here?"

Seifer laughed at the misinformed girl, though she had a right to think he was a SeeD. He didn't need a certificate nor an inaugural speech to carry himself like such. Besides, the attitude became innate, it was instilled into aspiring cadets.

The blonde remained silent, instead, propping his feet above him, his boots touching the stone wall. He made sure to rest his head on a dry part of the ground, placing his arms behind him for support. Soon, he'd make his move, regardless of what Kal thought, or any of those wet-behind-the-ears children he fostered. Seifer was sure Rinoa didn't know the first thing about escaping prisons like these, especially when her magic was disabled. He'd come to the rescue soon. If he could, he wanted to stay long enough to see if the Galbadians would arrive. Besides, Caelum looked like it could use a hero.

The girl's silent stare could be felt by Seifer, but he didn't mind. Whoever she was, it was none of his concern. They'd thrown her in jail just like him, despite her seeming to be apart of Caelum. However, Seifer did wonder if the militia knew of her abilities and figured her to be a threat to them as well. This brought him back to the device that had fallen from her. He remembered Kal examining the same object before.

The fruit-seller neared her bars again, leaning against it as if to get as close to Seifer as possible. "I'm Demilee, by the way." When Seifer didn't return the greeting, she continued. "You're not too talkative, are you?" He simply tapped his feet rhythmically to a silent melody. "Listen . . . Caelum's doing all it can to stave off another invasion. We tried salvaging for more resources to keep us going, but I don't know if that will be enough. . . . Maybe the SeeDs won't even be enough this time. That's why—"

"If you care about this shitty town than go and defend it," Seifer shot at her.

"But there's an anti-magic field. You're going to stay down here too. There's no way out," she informed. Seifer peeked over to the odd stone-like device a few feet from him. He rose, walking toward it. Demilee watched carefully as he stretched his arm to grasp it. As he suspected, the thing _was_ similar to the one Kal had picked up from the supplies vehicle they'd stolen it from. Demilee seemed mesmerized by his handling of the object, her golden eyes melting into fear.

"What is this?" he asked.

"I want to leave this _shitty _town," she simply answered, turning away. "There's nothing here for me." It was odd, the way her words carried a heavy weight of understanding, akin to his own. Hers seemed to manifest directly from his past, veering full force to punch him in the face. It made him wonder if perhaps her departing footsteps were stamped with the same purposeful imprints as his own. And if so, could she handle such a burden?

Demilee came out of her reverie and Seifer saw as her eyes brighten up again. The girl definitely wasn't normal. She came to her feet, her head nearly spilling out between the space of the bars.

"Come on, get me out of here. I know SeeDs are trained for this kind of stuff," she pleaded. Seifer turned from her, lightly thrusting the device into the air. It landed back into his palm. "Be careful with that!" she warned, unable to keep herself from flinching. Seifer grinned.

"What is it? Some kind of taser?" he guessed, pointing it toward her. Irritated by his taunting and aversion, Demilee narrowed her eyes, above his abundant aversions.

"Here, hand it to me and I can get us both out of here," she offered, extending her hand out to him.

He stepped forward. "I'm supposed to just believe that?"

"Why not? I told you my name!" Demilee argued. Seifer kept a secure grip on the device, a little lost by her logic.

"I can bust myself out. Thanks, but no thanks. . . ." he replied. Seifer returned to his previous position.

Deflated, Demilee lowered her hand. She looked out into the secluded hallway, watching the dank, poorly lit hollowness extend and slope downward.

"Asshole. . . ." Disappointedly, she sat back down into her corner and waited.

* * *

The smokescreen covering the entirety of Caelum's square would effectively create a mask for the infantrymen to maneuver through. Squall was overly familiar with Galbadia's various methods of attack. The army was fond of utilizing their sheer brute force, especially when it came to dealing with SeeD. It proved to be the most efficient and wisest tactic, with minimal resources used. However, Galbadia had limited flexibility in their innovativeness. Their offense usually consisted of the same patterns, slightly modified, but still predictable. Squall supposed the army could afford to be rigid in their actions; they were quite formidable and presented a great challenge to him and his men.

It had been Quistis' idea to have the haul trucks the salvagers used to help fire the smoke shells and spread the burning coal more effectively. Any cover Squall could provide his men and, particularly Caelum citizens, would slow the next invasion down if only a bit.

"Commander Leonhart," called a field level cadet. He came rushing forward, carrying with him bags of coal borrowed from the supplies factories further in town. Squall wiped his hands of the soot that surrounded him, kicking away a used smoke grenade. "We need you at the Fort."

"What's the matter?" Squall asked, allowing for the student to walk beside him. He was shaky and a bit nervous, and it reminded Squall of his first time taking the field exam to become a SeeD, only, he could control his nerves.

"Well, Instructor—I mean, Master Trepe has disappeared and a member of the House wishes to speak with one of you," the cadet answered. Squall furrowed his eyebrows, wondering where she'd run off to in a time like this. He had given her orders to focus primarily on their defenses. Even if contact with Cid was available, there wasn't much that could be done as far as abandoning their post, there would be no time.

"You, state your rank," Squall asked the lone passing cadet that was equipping his handgun with magic-infused bullets.

"Saber class 3, Commander," the cadet replied. Squall stopped his pace as did the boy that followed him.

"You should be posted with the front flank, left wing." The cadet saluted and apologized, scurrying off to where he should have been. Though the rookie SeeD-to be's were skittish and a little confused, they were far more capable and experienced than the militia. They commanded the magical forces of SeeDs along with strategic battle capabilities. Squall was certain they'd fair much better against the Galbadians.

At the command center, which was simply an emptied warehouse building just before the Square, Squall caught sight of Mayor Dol, this time attired in martial uniform. At his waist was an outdated rapier manufactured by Dollet. The blade was worn and uneven. As the commander neared, he felt his annoyance mounting by the hour. Now the mayor wished to involve himself, and probably die doing so. . . . Whatever.

"You called for me, Mayor?" Squall came forth. Around them, cadets and militia alike outfitted the command center's stairs with explosives and radio wirings, a fellow SeeD ordering for three sentries to stand guard over the entrance. Mayor Dol ignored the commander, his attention completely immersed in his radio medium.

"Send the Districts artillery as well. They need to defend themselves. . . ." he spoke into the device. Static emitted from the radio before an unknown voice confirmed the request.

It was absurd to send people weapons that they knew nothing about. For that reason, some cadets were sent to round up civilians and relocate them to an underground shaft the House had mentioned.

Slightly injured militiamen poured out of the warehouse, toting short rifles. They split paths short of the command center. They'd fight against the Galbadians barehanded if that was their only means.

"Do you have a report for me or something, SeeD?" the Mayor asked, finally minding Squall.

"No. I was told you needed me," Squall replied. A cadet circled the men, laying down cables and disappearing into the light fog.

"I need to know where you plan to have my militia stationed, and I also wish to know your thoughts on the Galbadians." Mentally sighing, Squall hated dealing with incompetent, arrogant fools who couldn't think for themselves. If the mayor intended to intercept Squall's orders because he felt the militia was being misused, the two would have more than a problem.

"The militia will be our infantrymen. They will circle the Square as our second line of defense behind the SeeDs and cadets and act as support—"

"I know what that means!" the Mayor impatiently yelled. Squall turned away, waiting for the bastard to calm down.

"Should the Galbadians send in their foot soldiers, we'll be prepared to strike head on. I've provided cover. The Attack Magic Operatives will act as the primary fire and maneuver team. I have them perched on moved rubble as support for the outer flanks. They will directly discharge all offense to any and all incoming assaults."

The Mayor's disdain seemed to dissipate somewhat at the detailed plan. Perhaps his faith was finally placed in Squall's able men?

"Very well. I will join you," the Mayor declared, much to Squall's chagrin.

"I'm sure you will be needed most here at the command post. The last stand, should it come to that. . . ." the commander replied.

From inside the command center, Squall's noticed his partner coming down the stairs. She carried a small, outdated clipboard. When Quistis spotted Squall, her distraught eyes became even more apparent.

"Squall!" she called. Finished, the Mayor moved on, finding other men to command.

The woman glanced at her written reports, scanning to see if there was anything else pertinent that needed to be said. "The cadets have . . . uh, cleared out the district the best I could. It seems Mayor Dol ordered for the citizens to be supplied with firearms," she informed, eying the Mayor curiously from across the way. "I don't know what he's thinking, especially since supplies are . . . limited."

"He calls himself building an army. . . ." Squall retorted, toying with the pathetic mental image.

Quistis settled her arms against her skirt, having no choice but to ignore his insensitivity. "Well," the SeeD began. Squall picked up on her odd loss for words, wondering where it was stemming from. "When you were organizing the troops, I checked on the commotion at the main gate. . . . And," her eyes trailed, becoming more confused as the words left her mouth, "I saw Seifer. . . ."

Squall stopped, turning toward her. "Almasy?" he asked, now equally surprised. That name hadn't been mentioned once in the months that the man had left Garden. Though it made sense that his lust for battle would drive Seifer to end up here at a time like this, it was still highly unlikely. "Are you sure?"

Quistis nodded her head. "I saw him with my own eyes. . . . He hadn't changed at all. He was accompanied by assumed Galbadia insurgents. I don't know, it was all just. . . ."

"Forget it. His presence doesn't change anything." Squall's reasoning was right, but Quistis was unable to subdue her desire to know why Seifer had come, and what was going through his head as he allowed himself to become imprisoned. He'd been her student since she got her license, and never had he adhered to the rules nor obeyed Garden authority. Not to mention, Seifer never told anyone the reason for his resignation from Garden. He'd just left. It was probably the only subtle thing he'd ever done in all the twenty years she'd known him.

"You're right, Commander. . . ." Quistis said, not wanting to betray how she really felt. There were minuscule questions she wanted answered by Seifer, more so now than during the days leading up to his departure. With Galbadia's impending invasion, she would have to wait.

* * *

"I almost forgot to tell you. . . ." Selphie slammed the door of the Tempest, thoroughly satisfied that she got to operate it. She'd told Irvine how long she'd been waiting to drive the car, not bothering to simply rent it out until a mission required its use. She said it would add to the whole effect—whatever that meant. "We might run into a few of my comrades from Garden here." He'd known that from reading his own written briefing. "But we're to remain neutral if we do see them, they'll understand. Got it?" she asked, watching as Irvine came around the vehicle to the trunk. He inserted his card ID and it popped open.

"Of course," was all he said. Affairs between the SeeD people had nothing to do with his mission.

Inside the space, Irvine grabbed for a black duffel bag that was too thin to carry any heavy equipment. He swung the strap over his chest. "Our main objective is to speak with the House and locate the subject. Gotcha', Sefie."

"Selphie," the tiny SeeD corrected with mock anger. Irvine rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a pacifying chuckle.

"How 'bout Tilly?"

"Tilmitt," she insisted.

"All right, girl, you win. . . ." he conceded, lowering his head. The scenery hadn't changed much since they hopped into the convertible and drove up to where the coordinates read on his hologram. It was just trees among trees. They rose so high and spread so wide that even the sky could barely be seen. They were in the Timberlands all right.

Selphie took a moment to look around her, marveling at the natural fortress.

"Wow. . . ." she breathed out. Irvine watched her. Such a tiny frame engulfed by high, strong structures of trees.

"Let's see," the cowboy said. He did a double take of his surroundings. "CHIC says there should be scouts here to greet us. . . ."

"Who's chick?"

Irvine pulled out the metal holographic panel he'd been carrying with him, shaking it between his index and thumb. "Channeled Holographic Image Communicator. CHIC." Selphie gave him an interested look, but she wasn't all that surprised to find him carrying a device with such an acronym with all the passes he'd been making during the ride to Caelum.

"Oh," she said, shaking her head.

As they waited, thunder rolled and boomed in the distance, and before long, rain began to hail from the sky, sending down shards of water with full force. Selphie squealed, finding the trees to be little protection. "Not again!" she wailed. "Where are these people?" Irvine placed his cowboy hat atop Selphie's head, offering what little shelter it could provide. His gaze was cast upward when he noticed the large shadows passing over the trees, breaking away leaves and redirecting the rain. To get a clearer view, Irvine adjusted his position and soon realized that the structures were a portion of Galbadia's sky armada. Aircrafts headed toward Caelum glided through, smothering the boulders of clouds above.

"We need to hurry," Irvine commented. "Martine didn't give us much time, did he?"

* * *

Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much Jade Almasy! You're reviews keep me going! XD Hope you liked this one. Slowly, the players in this story are being introduced with motives that may at first seem universal. Be prepared for some SeeD kick-ass action in the next two chapters! Thanks again!


	7. For Imperiled Liberty

_**For Imperiled Liberty **_

Despite the rain that now was beginning to lighten up, Irvine immediately recognized the Chancellor of Caelum as he ascended from an opening above the forest floor. He was accompanied by two armed men, both scanning Kinneas and the SeeD beside him with suspicion. They raised the bodies of their rifles with precaution as the Chancellor approached. His withered hands, discolored by age, slightly shook as he held an umbrella, shielding the silk regalia that swallowed him from getting wet.

"Let me see it," the old man demanded hurriedly, extending his fingers that looked more like the talons of a chimera. Selphie looked to Irvine, assuming he knew what the Chancellor wanted. The Headmaster had mentioned how cautious and mistrusting the people of Caelum were toward outsiders, especially SeeD, even when hiring them to fight their battles. Without any further exchange, Kinneas pulled from his coat's pocket a smoothly-rounded pale blue ore. It fit perfectly along the shape of his palm. Then, the cowboy tossed it to one of the Chancellor's men. "Ah. . . ." muttered the old man.

The mercenary and the soldier looked on as the Chancellor examined the stone. He titled it this way and that, rubbing his thumb about its cool surface. The splattering rain seemed to cause the piece of rock to glow, almost like the luminescent mineral deposits Esthar had once excavated from Centra nearly two decades ago. Selphie's eyes widened, amazed.

"Galbadia's finest," Irvine added with a grin. Selphie gave him a curious eye, trying to grasp the situation. The young SeeD was well aware of the secrecies the two were sure to possess upon encounter simply because they were from different Gardens. Separate agendas weren't anything out of the ordinary, but the mystery was gripping Selphie's inquiries. She _needed_ to know the answers.

The Chancellor's sapless eyes, swollen with years of experience, narrowed with approval after sending the two before him another analyzing glance. Then, he became thoughtful, holding the stone ever tightly.

"You've come for the girl, correct?" His voice resounded throughout the forest and Irvine thought he felt it drum through his chest. It could have been the resounding Air fleet above nearing them though. Again, the Chancellor gave the pair a once over. "Are you prepared?" he asked skeptically. Irvine patted the black, long sack slung across his body. "And what of her? Is she from Galbadia Garden as well?" Selphie turned to Irvine, unsure if she was to answer or not.

Instead, Irvine spoke. "A SeeD, from Balamb." As if struck with a foul, overpowering odor, the Chancellor crumpled his calloused nose. Selphie did well to hide her fury at his sentiment.

"Of course." He let out a dry, cold chuckle, then turned to his men, gesturing for them to stand down. His attention came back to Kinneas. "Couldn't come any sooner, eh? As you know, your army is swarming the skies like the bloodthirsty bite bugs they are. . . ."

"My apologies," Irvine offered, though he didn't sound too sincere. "A clean capture, and the fleet goes home satisfied. I think we can all appreciate that." The Chancellor did not smile nor did he humor Kinneas. Instead, he turned back to the hole he'd come up from.

"The sooner this is over, the sooner you and those damned SeeDs will be rid from my sight." The old man began to lower himself further into the hatchway, the garments encasing his decrepit figure dragging along after him.

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Selphie shot back. She shrugged off Irvine's glance.

"This way. . . ."

The two followed the Chancellor down into the dark below.

* * *

Above, rain tapped harshly against the metal vent that lead up onto the surface. The cellar had suddenly become filled with the echoed sound of movement and activity. Men, Demilee assumed were militia and SeeD alike, yelled incoherent words to one another, their voices traveling over before becoming lost by the clap of thunder and the hard silence of her jail cell. Watching the rain slip into the ground below, creating small puddles was enough to keep her mind from reacting to the surges of memory that sporadically crashed into her.

It had happened again. The malefic, greedy energy that once consumed Demilee had threatened to manifest from her—and it had won the battle. Disconnected images of fire, of broken glass, and bullets bending to the will of the foreign, massive power that she could not command flashed before her, each one more blinding then the last. Demilee felt the strong repulsion of her behavior tearing at the seams of any justification. She was beginning to choke on the horror of murdering those soldiers, her sternum constricting the beat of her heart. What they had made her do, what they had unleashed should have never been freed; each time the demon escaped its entrapment, it desired far more.

Each time she was stricken with dejection at the mere thought of where in her mind she'd end up next if such rampant, destructive power was stolen from her again. She _needed _to run to maintain her freedom, expend whatever resource she had available to her. Nothing, nor anyone would stop her from avoiding the places she never wanted to revisit. And if she found herself trapped . . .

The fear pushed its way out of Demilee's heart again, so she quietly hummed the wordless melody that soothed her, the only power in the world that could protect and steady her. Light from the fires splashed onto the cobblestone she was huddled on, spreading and receding, as if dancing and playing with the tune. The gentle image softened her being.

"Stop that. It's annoying," Seifer's voice echoed through the corridor's cellars, mingling with Demilee's.

She barely heard the man across from her cell even though she was acutely aware of his presence. He'd seen her in the monstrous state that possessed her, saw the unwavering rage ejecting from her body. Still, he seemed only cautious of her, the same as before. Perhaps she feared herself more than he did?

Maybe it was his arrogance. Demilee could plainly see that the man was full of himself the way he casually positioned the length of his body on the floor of his cell. His legs were crossed against the wall, one of his feet swinging about. He wasn't at all how she had thought a SeeD should behave. They were something like miracle workers, saviors, an organization the Galbadians always had trouble with. Why was this guy so different?

"Made up your mind yet?" she asked him again, hoping he'd at least give her a verbal answer. The man had said nothing to her until now and she didn't know how to gain his trust. All she needed from him was to set her free, that was all. "Are you up for hiring? How much would it cost to become your client?"

"Use your magic to get of here," he finally said.

"But I'm not a sorceress," Demilee reminded him. Sorceresses commanded the magical forces at will, and they had greater control over it than she did.

"Then how about shutting up, eh?" Fed up beyond anger, Demilee rose and stormed over to the bars. Time was becoming short.

"How about _you_ shut up and start acting like a SeeD. Give me that thing! I can't hurt you if there's a magical field!" she angrily reasoned. The man didn't even look her way. Demilee let out a frustrated grunt. Then, she added softly, "Not that I would want to."

"Quite the contrary last time," he taunted. There was no cause for Seifer to hand the girl what she was after. She'd been thrown down there for a reason. But then, if they sent her to this shitty primitive prison, maybe she wasn't that great of a threat to begin with. Or, Caelum was just ignorant of the power she possessed.

". . . I thought you all were Galbadians coming after Caelum. I didn't know. . . ." Demilee tried, finding any convincing angle that would give her the upper hand. Seifer didn't buy it, especially when those Galbadian soldiers had been firing at the Base on relentless pursuit. It was an important detail she seemed to overlook. Taking his silence as a no go, Demilee instead said, "What about that group you were with? Do you even know how to get to them?" Seifer laughed at her desperation, but she continued. "This place is like a maze, it'd be hard to get to them if you don't know where you're going, you know?"

Seifer had figured that out the moment he'd stepped into the dungeon. He'd expected the routes to be complicated and confusing. Still, the sloppy resistance faction deserved enough credit from him; they usually had adequate intel and were probably plotting now.

Demilee's desperate words were a plea, like a damsel in distress. She didn't seem very genuine, but maybe it would be a risk he'd have to take. Besides, no hero left the helpless for dead, no matter how helpless they seemed _not _to be. It was code, and she was a girl. Seifer began to move, finding that his good old friend Raijin was beginning to wear off on him.

"Damn," he chuckled. "No choice then."

Before either of the two could speak another word, the ceiling was struck with a violent series of shudders, dust falling away around them. Startled, Demilee pulled herself from the wall, standing. She watched above as the head of the stone edifice trembled again, this time nearly knocking her off her feet. The sound of gunfire followed by cries fell in from the vents, cutting in to Demilee's panic.

The invasion was starting.

Demilee forced her breath outward, switching her attention to Seifer. Her peculiar eyes seethed with urgency.

"Catch, bright eyes," Seifer called to her. She extended her hands beyond the bars to catch the black stone as it flipped into the air. Soon, it landed right into her palms. She looked up to Seifer, but swiftly turned away from his eyes, not wanting to remember how they'd once shone in a different, less friendly light. Demilee surveyed the stone and felt the slight, dying pulse of electricity still trapped within, whispering her freedom. It would be enough energy to escape without transforming her.

Demilee pulled a sleeve up, exposing her bare wrist. The stone touched her and immediately, Demilee felt her body unravel itself to the contact. Frigid breath swept over her, but the prickling sensations were bearable. Seifer watched as the girl's eyes changed to a more potent amber, this time, they were controlled, calm.

She placed her hands on the bars and squeezed. White energy ebbed from her fingers, directly eroding the metal. It crumbled and fell away in a heap of ashes, the rest disintegrating as well. Even the anti-magic field went ignored by her.

There was no time to ponder on the girl nor the strange stone that seemed to supply her. Soon enough, Seifer was freed.

"Don't do anything stupid," Seifer thought he'd give the girl parting words before splitting paths. Hollow footsteps rang from down the left hall and Demilee's apprehension returned. She was surprised to see Seifer headed in that direction unarmed anyway.

"Wait!" she hissed. "Everyone's this way!" Demilee tugged on Seifer's silver coat and he swatted her away. He certainly didn't need her help, he'd find Kal eventually.

But if she _was_ being genuine, it would make the process a whole hell of a lot easier. Besides, he didn't want to miss the real action wandering aimlessly in the dungeon.

"And where would we find our weapons?" Seifer asked, opting to follow her deeper within. There was no damned way he'd leave Hyperion here.

"It's on the way!" Demilee answered. They ran through numerous empty cells, as if to elude the firing artillery that burst through the air outside.

* * *

The first tremor nearly sent the underground toppling in on itself. Loose stone and brick fell from crevices, shattering to the dust-covered floor in large piles. Heavy gunfire thundered through the foundation. Then, the second wave had forced the Chancellor's swift movement ahead to slow and take more cautious steps. He held on to the walls whenever he needed to, finding his feeble legs unable to sustain him properly. His guards had little trouble resisting the instability.

Irvine traveled on in knowing silence, Selphie beside him. It appeared that the Galbadian fleet had made it to the battlefield, wasting no time to confront the SeeDs and militia. Typical of them.

Still, the army's brazen haste seemed irrational to Irvine. Under General Caraway's shrewd management, the Galbadian military was quite organized in their combative strategies, every execution of marches, every maneuver was backed by reason. To Kinneas, it just meant he needed to hurry.

As they were lead further in, passing through pools of water and firelight, the sound of battle seemed to recede somewhat as a hollow stillness swept through the dismal warren, planting cold, stagnant tracks about them. It sent shivers through Selphie and caused Irvine to set his hand against the hilts of one of his guns underneath his coat, for safe measure.

When the Chancellor deemed himself far enough inside, he soundlessly signaled for his men to walk ahead. Without hesitation, they did so. "President Deling has been so kind to us over the years. We've kept our sovereignty despite the falling nations around Caelum. . . ." said the elderly man. "Ten long years of working toward stability."

About the contours of the Chancellor's shrunken face lay the shadows of the prison, smothering his eyes, devouring the entire left half of his grin. He cocked his head to the side, his golden headdress threatening to fall from the thinning white hair it sat atop. "Be sure to send him my most sincere appreciation."

Selphie nor Irvine liked the tone the Chancellor began to take with them. His impish smile revealed a neat row of stained teeth and slanted eyes of enigma. "For years, as head of the House, I've endeavored to keep Caelum free, to keep her spirit safe from the greedy eyes of the world," he continued. "Galbadia's grown far beyond the capacity of this humble city-state, so of course when a small opportunity—a jewel—settles in our hands by fate's design, we seek to use it."

"I'm not sure I understand," Irvine spoke, the confusion in his eyes melting into distrust. He was put off by the Chancellor's sudden chortle that riddled through his fragile frame. Selphie offered Irvine an uncertain but cautionary glance.

"You, soldier! Soldier's aren't meant to understand. You are given orders, what little freedom it provides, and you don't question. An existence best suited for the drones firing down on my city!" Then, the Chancellor swiveled his head in the direction his guards disappeared to. "Have you the girl?"

For a short second, there was no reply, but when the old man turned back to the two, his smile was still there.

"Caelum _will _endure!" he cried, extending a shaky hand to the ceiling. Selphie and Irvine tensed, but stood their ground. An old man was simply no match for a SeeD and a trained Galbadian soldier if he intended them harm. A small handgun slipped from the gaping hole of the Chancellor's sleeve, tucked inside of the cage of his fingers. He held the two by the gun's mouth poised to fire at any time. "Do understand that Deling's foolishness to side with a sorceress means nothing to us now!"

Selphie stepped forward, silently. Though she knew there was an anti-magic barrier permeating through the prison, staying the magical reserves in her mind, she had other means of taking him down. Irvine stopped her however.

"What the hell are you going on about? We're here for the girl, don't tell me you plan to stop us!"

"Sir!" A guard came forward, holding his rifle tightly in one hand. "She's gone, the girl! Autumn! And that faction guy too. They've escaped!" Then, a searing alarm blared through the halls, rattling the brick debris that mantled the ground.

Irvine took the confusion as his chance to strike. He pulled from their holsters two of his sidearms, firing off dual rounds into the guard's chest. The rifleman thudded to the ground, and the Chancellor immediately called forth a magical shield against the bomb fragment hurled his way by Selphie. The crimson fragment shattered into an incandescent burst of flame, clouding the old man. When the igneous storm subsided, he came away unscathed, but furious with rabid madness. As Selphie had expected, the magic barrier had been lifted. Irvine was no where to be found in that short instant, but the SeeD had little time to think anything of it as she plunged to the ground, avoiding a lethal bullet. Selphie soon scurried to her feet and grabbed a few more bomb fragments from the back pockets of her overall skirt to parry an onslaught of more of the Chancellor's gunfire. The collision brushed the slight SeeD back, while she shielded herself from the flying rubble that spat toward her.

When Selphie's vision cleared, she spotted the Chancellor turning away, in the direction of a sloping pathway. His movement was hurried and riddled with the wobbly steps of years of erosion. With haste, the SeeD lunged forward, but her advance was stopped short by incoming wardens, all bearing guns and batons alike. She allowed them to circle her, quickly calculating their number. Two closed off the exit behind her and three more closed in, causing her to lose sight of her previous opponent.

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?" When there was no reply, they only stared. One warden brought his baton forward, taking no chances with the seemingly harmless girl. His baton swung high before colliding with the raised brown boot of the SeeD, forcing the warden away. Her other foot jolted backward, thrusting a gun-toting guard from his position. Then, the rest acted, swarming around her like insects. The SeeD immediately disabled one warden's gun by cutting into it with her now electrically-charged wrist and its master went flying from the shock.

"She's a SeeD!" a guard panicked. With quick succession, Selphie tugged, kicked and punched her way through the wardens, stealing away their weapons. In their struggle to retrieve them, more white, scorching electricity from Selphie spiraled and bit into their bodies, sending the five writhing guards on their rears. They screamed in pain, but could only squirm as Selphie moved on, leaving them there.

Soon, her pursuit of the Chancellor ended. He stood between two empty dungeons where the bars had been corroded badly, some missing completely. When he noticed Selphie, the old man raised his gun again and took a shot. It was deflected by a magical shield of her own, its blue gleam appearing just as sudden. The Chancellor didn't seem to be stricken with shock, instead he reached for another handgun tucked inside of his sleeve and began spitting out the bullets. Her next wave of bomb fragments shot forward, but soon recoiled from a summoned reflect spell, violently ramming into the wall where Selphie once stood. Brick crashed against brick, dislodging and falling away.

The SeeD pushed on, avoiding the barrage of gunfire. She took cover behind a fallen stone column inside a space that sent off little light. The sconces above sparked and clanked at the onslaught.

The old man seemed fully capable of holding his own against the SeeD's low-level attacks, but she noticed he used no offensive magic. His mind was probably too frail to handle such energy.

"Caelum will not fall!" the Chancellor called, he took no steps forward, only searched around for movement. Selphie prepared herself to muster up magic that would halt his actions temporarily. It would give her enough time to chase after Irvine in the only other direction she hoped he'd run off to. When Selphie was ready, she moved from the shadows, swinging over the column to confront her opponent. Before she could even complete the spell in time, another gunshot ripped through the air. Then, the Chancellor loudly groaned, clenching his side where blood began to stain the fabrics of his cloaks. Eyes that had once been crazed with determination, softened into lost luster. The old man fell down, the veins in his neck and head protruding through his skin. Behind him stood Irvine. "There will be no more sacrifices when we've the moon," he whispered to the ceiling, watching as it faded and became a blur.

Irvine took a clip from behind him, reloading his hand gun. "You all right?" he asked to Selphie.

"Of course!" she inappropriately cheered. Her green eyes traveled to the dead Chancellor, bewildered by what he'd mumbled. The screaming alarm suddenly crashing into her ears again dissipated all pondering. "What now?"

"We gotta put the girl aside. She's no longer the priority," Irvine answered.

"What do you mean?" Selphie came up beside the gunman, watching as he seemed to regain his bearings.

"The other guy mentioned a resistance faction being holed up in here. CHIC said that the General's daughter is present here in Caelum. She's not too far now."

"What? Caraway's daughter? How do you know where she is now?" Irvine simply pointed toward the dead second guard a short ways down the hall and said, "He told me."

* * *

The Forest Owls had no choice but to watch a few prison guards run pass their cells. They urgently barked commands at each other, having received new orders to terminate intruders that had breached the downstairs of the dungeon. The shrilling blare of the anti-magic field being lifted sounded just after the distant barrage of gunfire exploded into the air. The chaos seemed to spread all around the dungeon, placing everyone on edge.

Rinoa's heart began to race each time she envisioned Seifer easily forcing his way through the enemy, beside him, the metallic gleam of his gunblade, Hyperion. The image always accompanied her feeling of helplessness right before the spell or a rapier of a Galbadian could end her life. Then she'd see the silver-coated knight, a title he fancied himself with, there to rescue her and save the day. It was enough to give anyone the confidence to believe that they were invincible, could be left untouched by opposition. With a man like Seifer blanketing her every mistake, the fear of death was less frightening.

But now, Rinoa was beginning to no longer desire the knight in the armor, the one that would swoop down from nowhere and rescue the sorceress from the dragon, like in the low-budget movie Seifer had once shown her. She needed to be self-reliant because the security of another's protection wasn't eternal. Eventually, he'd leave the Forest Owls, the man had said it himself, and when he did, Rinoa wouldn't need him nor Hyperion anymore; she'd be better prepared to fight by then.

Things would be different this time; she could slay her own dragon if given the chance, and the knight could find another danger to go sticking his sword in to. Rinoa's own strength could be the only armor she needed—all she had to do was just _do_ it, and face it head on like Seifer had instructed.

"We need to get out of here," Zone angrily proclaimed. He slammed a foot against a bar, ignoring the pain in frustration. "This isn't right!" No one said anything, only because they'd heard the member's outrage before. Kal simply shushed him.

"Whatever they intend to do to us, we wait for our chance, got it?" His middle-aged eyes found their way to Rinoa. She appeared mesmerized by the iron restraints before her, her body neatly tucked atop the ground.

"What do you think's planned for us, sir?" Watts asked, seated behind Rinoa. He was beside one other member of the faction. "Can't say that I've ever been in jail before."

The very round and stubby Vinny adjusted his crossed legs. "I sure hope it's nothing drastic," he said. "It'll be hard to explain we're not Galbadian intelligence ops or whatever they think us to be."

"Shut up!" Zone shot back, fear present in his voice. "Just be quiet, and think!"

Again, everyone fell silent, and Rinoa contemplated the bars before her once more, where across housed Kal, Zone, and Elise. The barrier that contained her was nonthreatening, but pivotal in her own heroic slaying. If Rinoa wanted out, she had to believe she could do it, she had to trust in herself.

So she rose suddenly. While standing with her legs slightly apart, firmly planted on the dampened ground, she muttered the technicalities.

"Feet spread, arms locked. Minimal recoil. Okay," she mumbled Seifer's words, determination hardening her features. Kal pulled himself from the ground, coming as much forward as his cage would allow him.

"Princess," he said to Rinoa. "It's no use. Fire alone ain't melting those bars. . . ." But his advice went ignored as the girl closed her eyes with full concentration. She mumbled some more before clenching her hands as if she were fiercely prying away invisible barriers. Soon, her palms began to glow with an infant, white light. As it slowly pushed its way forth, Rinoa's boots had a hard time staying positioned. They were inching backward, gripping nothing but the cold air.

"Yeah, princess!" Zone cheered on with much elation.

Rinoa was trying her best to shoot off a second-class fire spell, one she'd never attempted before on her own. It was a spell Seifer had transferred to her. She was to only use it when no other options were available. It _was_ an emergency, especially since now seemed to be the only time to act with magic.

Rinoa felt herself losing the concentration she'd muster, the spell displacing itself back to an unknown region in her mind. The light that had been ebbing its way out of her palms now waned into a mere shimmer before burning out completely. Exhaustedly, she slunk back to the ground, crestfallen and frustrated.

"I still can't do it," she whispered, more for herself to finally understand. Watts placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She returned his gesture with a weak smile.

"What the hell do you think is going on out there?" Elise, the only other female of the faction asked when another shudder shook the dungeon again.

"War," Kal answered. "A war for freedom, and we're right in the middle of it, dammit!"

"But you wanted to come here for supplies, sir!" Watts reminded Kal, as if to shove his mistake down his throat. Vinny pulled the intel-gathering man down to be seated next to him, knowing now wasn't the wisest time to get on Kal's bad side. He could get quite volatile in uncertain situations and that was the last thing any of them needed.

"Do you think Seifer's okay?" Rinoa wondered aloud.

Kal let out a cackle. "Of course! That bastard's probably the one causing all the ruckus downstairs. . . ."

Zone scoffed. "That _bastard_ probably left us." He paid no attention to the aggravated looks directed toward the statement, sticking firmly to his belief. "We need to do something. I don't plan on sticking around here when the Galbadians win. You know what happens to prisoners of war?"

"Calm down!" Vinny exclaimed. "Focus your energy on finding a loose bar or something." Rinoa obeyed the half-joke, pulling on any bar that seemed wobbly enough. None of them would budge.

Then, an abrupt cry bellowed through the hall, turning all of the Forest Owls' heads in its direction. They all strained to see the commotion, but it was shrouded in the blackness. Heavy footsteps pushed forward with the sound of falling bodies, and the light of summoned spells. Rinoa removed herself away from the bars, startled by the danger that approached.

Soon enough, the princess caught a glimpse of the champion of her rescue and without confirming completely, she called out to him.

"Seifer!" As if she'd succeeded in his summoning, Rinoa punched the air in triumph, though somewhere deep within her, she felt her pride sink further inward. It appeared that dragons, in all its forms, proved to be unconquerable.

With a smug, boyish grin, Seifer was before her, and the armor that every knight was required to have—Hyperion rested atop his shoulder.

"You all look surprised to see me," he teased, throwing a glance toward Zone. "So chicken-shit survived this place after all?" Before Zone could verbally react to the insult, Kal intervened.

"Come on, Seifer. Hurry it up. This dungeon's going to cave in a—"

Kal caught sight of the person who'd accompanied Seifer as she stepped forward. The girl—the demon-child—that had demolished the Forest Owl's Base and had nearly caused the resistance faction their lives came from the shadows, huffing and holding awkwardly a handgun to her chest.

"What the hell is this?" Kal angrily questioned. Effortlessly, Seifer melted Rinoa's bars with his gloved hands and she did not hide her amazement despite wanting to rescue herself. The strange girl went to work on the other bars, doing the same to them as Seifer had, only they turned to ashes rather than distorted metal.

"How do we get out of here, bright eyes?" Seifer asked to Demilee. He noticed the confused, cautioned looks the crew was giving him.

"There's a small opening downstairs that leads directly to Warehouse 9. I have a vehicle there for you all to ride out on," she answered, giving each a sincere glance. "And I apolo—"

"No time for that," Seifer interrupted. He pushed his way through. "Lead."

"What the hell is the matter with you, Almasy?" Kal demanded. He sent Demilee an angered, distrustful look. "She ain't no good to us!"

"I don't intend on sticking around here, take your chances old man," Seifer shot back. The rest watched as Kal toiled on his uncertain options, then reasoning settled on his face. Either way, his team was free, and getting out of the dungeon was his top priority, no matter the company. He would place his trust in Seifer's about the girl.

"Come on, you all. Keep on your toes!" Reluctantly, Kal allowed for Demilee to lead the charge for escape, waiting until the last member of his team stepped from the bars before chasing after her himself.

* * *

Author's Note: Whoo! Sorry for the lengthy chapter, but a lot has happened(sort of) in terms of the jail break. I was surprised by how much these scenes have evolved from when I first wrote them, but I like how it turned out. So the Chancellor's shadiness came to fruition! You got to wonder why on earth he'd contend with a SeeD with only two handguns? Anyways, thanks Jade Almasy for your review!

Next Chapter's Squall's big fight against the Galbadians! (Among many...)


	8. Cries Of An Unfulfilled Kingdom

_**Cries of an Unfulfilled Kingdom**_

In short time, the sky had become flooded with Galbadian air cavalry, slightly catching the falling rain so that it did not hit Caelum's square below. G-c6 fast-flight gunships circled around the towering, winged tank flagship, the Ustrauss as its shadowed, hulking figure loomed over all. It paused at a specific location in the sky, its dry thrust turbofans whirring like thunder, as if bellowing out a monotonous call to battle.

The gray, hard smoke swirled fiercely under the beat of the command ship's massive engines, passing around Squall and the front flank, smearing against their skin and uniforms. The main gate before them was engulfed completely by the dense smokescreen, along with anything else ten feet in front of them. The cadets, perched across from the left wing of the offense, appeared to be hazy frames to Squall as they moved about the raised debris of crushed buildings and roads, elevated for optimal support.

The loss of visibility would be a hit that both the Galbadians and the SeeDs had to accept. It would at least prevent any direct assaults to the command center that housed the Mayor and their last line of defense. If the enemy army managed to advance that far, Caelum would have no choice but to surrender and fall.

"Commander to Tower, do you copy?" Squall said into the dispatcher at his ear.

"Copy, Commander. . . ." Quistis' voice was muffled with static.

"What's your position?"

"Clear sir," she answered.

Squall eyed a cadet two men down from him as he began casting protective spells on the militiamen as well as himself. He mentally praised the squad leader's utilization of his magics, hoping others would follow suit. However, should his flank sustain heavy fire, the rescue operatives above would reinforce damages.

As more thunderclouds rolled in, sending sporadic jolts of lightening through the sky, Squall felt the adrenaline pump throughout his bloodstream, electrifying the hand that closed around the large, black hilt of his gunblade. The Revolver was a solid, steel-infused blade, heavy enough to be wielded by both hands with the power to cut down men three at a time, depending on the skill of its master. Its six-chamber cylinder, when triggered, would create a wave surge through the blade, and if combined with offensive magic and executed correctly, it was capable of clearing up to ten enemies in the vicinity. What would normally take sixteen years to completely master the intricacies of the Revolver and become a gunblade specialist, Squall had done so in half the time.

The weapon's infamous difficulty to wield had afforded Squall quite the titles on the battlefield. Galbadian soldiers respectfully knew him as the God of Blades, and his SeeD counterparts entitled him the Champion of the Gunblade, going as far as inscribing his name to the student-produced Legends Hall of Fame in Garden's courtyard. His fame easily overshadowed the only other person who had studied with him in the ways of the gunblade, but only one came away with the title of mastery.

"We have incoming!" a militiaman hastily announced. Immediately, Squall pulled his Revolver from its thin sheath at his back, feeling as the weight lifted from him and onto the muscles of his arms. He surveyed his undisturbed surroundings, yelling to his men,

"Hold the line!"

Then, monstrous streams of flame began to swallow the space before the front flank, eating away the rubble and devouring the smoke. The rigid figures of nearing enemy soldiers entered Squall's vision and he was instantly consumed with familiarity. The Galbadian ground troops, attired in their dark-blue uniforms, made themselves known to the Commander, bearing their rapiers and tinted visor-helmets that reflected the light of their furious magic. When the human flamethrowers ceased their incendiary channel of fire, its breath laying crimson ruin all around, the ground troops marched on. These soldiers were level-one sabers and did not take advantage of long-range weapons, instead opting for melee combat and magical support. However, the technology of their uniforms allowed for flying bullets to be deflected. Squall and his attack magic operatives would have to engage them head on.

Steadying his men so that the Galbadians could get into range of the cadets supporting the outer flanks, Squall kept his gunblade defensively forward. The enemy inched closer, before suddenly bursting out into a full race to the line.

Squall released his men with a mere swing of his hand. He and the four other SeeDs came charging past the militia, weaving through the bursts of fire that ejected from the Galbadians' swords, landing like exploding bombs behind them. The Revolver was at Squall's side, nearly scraping against the ground as he neared one soldier. Swords raised and hammered at each other, sending white sparks into the murky air. Galbadians were swift with their light rapiers, and the only way Squall could combat their speed was to wait and find an opening in their offense. His opponent slashed and swept his sword over Squall in a series of agile, flying strokes, but the SeeD proved to be quite elusive despite the weight of his gunblade slowing him. The Galbadian thrust his sword toward Squall's throat,cutting through nothing but passing gray fumes.

The Commander's shoulder jutted up and rammed into his opponent's triceps. The jolting pain of his stretched muscle, caused the soldier to shrivel then Squall put forth his hand and slammed it into the Galbadian's chest, throwing him backward. Before the troop could even hit the ground, a quick fire spell of the highest level demolished his body. It burned and charred right through the magic-resistant uniform. Surrounding soldiers caught the tail of the fire, dispersing to avoid further burns.

The SeeD beside Squall pummeled his opponents with non-ending spells of poisonous palm-plants. The acidic, burbling gases flashed like flying dust into his enemy's body with each fierce contact. When she'd done away with the Galbadian, the SeeD ventured off into the smoke. Squall didn't mind as much when his SeeDs traveled on, breaking the formation. He'd expect the army to engage him at the skirmish line, charging directly in front with little to no element of surprise. If they intended to break past the SeeDs to the militia, Squall knew most of their men would die before reaching the second line.

Another soldier came at the Commander with a savage meteor of fire. The energy lunged and spiraled into Squall's Revolver, dispersing as it was brushed away. The Galbadian had no time to back away from the frigid magical force darting from Squall's hand. It enveloped the soldier's wrists, rendering them useless. The troop dropped his rapier and Revolver came crashing down on the soldier, cracking his visor and piercing through the muscles of his throat. Blood squirted up from the wound, then he fell.

"Skyward ambush on Tower! Paratroopers, six o'clock!" Squall's dispatcher screeched. He'd expect such, being that the command tower was Caelum's stronghold, and if the army reached the Mayor, he'd be forced to surrender. The Galbadians wanted the battle to be a very brief one, less hassle and resources used on such a non-important city-state.

But, the Commander would give them hell first. Quistis, his last trump card, would be waiting for the paratroopers upon landing.

Squall's next opponent wasn't much different from the last few. Defeating him by simply dodging his sword-work and then impaling him in the gut with Revolver proved to be yet another swift victory. From behind, a soldier's rapier burst through the air, but Squall ducked and ran his gunblade through his enemy without turning. He pulled the trigger and felt as the wave blasted into the soldier's body with a quick explosion of flame provided by a cadet from the left perch.

Ahead, curative magic coiled about the smoke, finding its way to both sides of the line. The azure light appeared like flickering birds, sweeping over the landscape, aiding those who needed it, only for some to be intercepted by swarms of destructive magic, shooting away entire groups of men.

"Perch, C-S!" a cadet called from a short distance. The code was answered by another blinding white light, this time from the right. It crawled into the body of the SeeD-in-training, immediately filling him with vigor. The cadet prepared to head for cover, but a Galbadian troop flanked him. The Cadet jumped back more from shock than apprehension. The light sword nearly cleaved him but Squall was there to force the Galbadian from his prey. The cadet pushed on, knowing the fight would soon end. Again, another opponent fell at the feet of the Commander.

"Commander, incoming from all sides!" Squall instinctively looked in the direction of the voice screaming in his dispatcher; he was a perched support operative. More fire and bullets sprayed about, knocking down cadets and Galbadians alike. Squall hurried to the front, cutting down those in his way. As he neared, more soldiers began to pour in from the main gate, outlining the smoke in a rigid wall of black, suffocating any further vision.

Roughly thirty men came charging through, with mighty roars that outlived the thunder and rose high above the violent barrage around them. Some were thrown down, crashing into debris as a few SeeDs and cadets from the support lines sent vehement bombs of electricity, fire, and ice into the herd of soldiers. More pierced through the obstruction, welting down their enemies as they drew near to secure the line. The militiamen behind shot off rounds of their guns, finding themselves slipping further back by the coming Galbadians.

Then, two camouflaged mini-gunships came flying over the fray, shooting off paratroopers under its enormous engines. The soldiers, in an ensemble of deep green crashed to the ground, immediately taking down the militia. They sent hordes of fire spells and grenades, immediately demolishing the entire middle half of the Caelum soldiers. Like swarms of bees, they fragmented and headed in all directions.

Squall could hear the screams of the militia, of his cadets as they sputtered up blood. He took down two more Galbadians and when he could, called out to his men. "Take cover! C-S backup!" Restorative spells sprouted from every corner, swishing past the Commander as he pressed on to elevated land. His boots dug through the rubble and the path of fallen men. Once high enough, Squall directed his gunblade toward the upsurge of Galbadians and with one mighty swing, massive waves of crimson flames spat from his sword. The energy beat through the smoke, sending back a wave of force to the cadets behind him. It clawed and scorched through nearly the entire platoon, stopping their movement completely. Screams of death scoured over the field, followed by a lessoned sound of offensive fire.

Still, the battle hadn't ended. Above, Galbadia's behemoth flagship swept over the land, passing the Square and headed for the command tower.

* * *

With no regard for Quistis' better judgment, Mayor Dol crossed her, holding tightly to the sword at his waist. He'd watched from inside his post as paratroopers dived down from the sky, prepared to contend with the cadets lining the front of the command tower. When the first few cadets fell, the mayor had decided he'd had enough of standing by. Quistis warned him that intervening now wouldn't be wise, mainly because he was too inexperienced and if the cadets couldn't protect him, the battle would be over. Instead, Mayor Dol followed through with his rashness, heading down the stairs to the battle zone.

Technical personnel whipped past the SeeD, employing countermeasures for the situation. After receiving dispatches that Squall's men were being brushed too far back, he had told Quistis that he'd give the command for the final plan to be executed. Until then, she needed to keep the foolish mayor alive.

Along the spiraling stairwell, dust fell from the trembling building, but Quistis still had Mayor Dol in her line of vision. He was racing down the steps, unsheathing his weapon. Upon entering the abandoned, desolate reception room, Dol swung open the double doors before him with much force, letting in the onslaught of gunfire and magical spells. Smoke immediately crept into the building, and then the mayor disappeared into it. Quistis tried calling his name, but her cry went ignored.

Outside, the cadets barely dodged the paratroopers' aggression. One was helping another that squirmed with injury stand, quickly searching for cover. When Quistis saw a trooper summoning, she reflexively shot a thunderous spell his way. He cried out and fell.

At the SeeD's side was her chain whip, the Scorpion. It's coiled body, the color of blood, was made from the hide of the poisonous Anacondaur great snake, and its snap was just as much filled with venom. She only used the weapon as her support, relying mostly on para-magic and a magic-lore skill she'd developed herself. Quistis called it Blue Magic and with much meditation and practice of her consciousness, she not only learned to _feel _magic with her mind in others, but she was also able to rob her opponent's of their energy without the use of stones or other catalysts. She was able to harness the energy in its rawest form, though the very appearance of it differed from regular magic.

The art was still in development and had not been worked into Balamb Garden's curriculum, largely because it had no direct instruction on its use.

"Flagship headed your way. Permission to summon!" The ear piece attached to the side of Quistis' head nearly went out of commission at the heavy feedback she was receiving. A cadet came from the shadows, gulping down a curative potion. In his other hand was a miniature machine pistol, alight with the white touch of blizzard magic. Quistis could sense the magic-infused bullets and how low the reserves were. The SeeD quickly came to the male cadet and wordlessly touched the mouth of his weapon. With precise accuracy, she felt where the bullets lay inside the gun, and relinquished her own stores of the blizzard magic. He wouldn't need to reload for a good while.

"Tell all you can to clear the area!" she commanded, sending off currents of electricity to the bodies of paratroopers that thought to surround the two. The energy jolted into their bodies, throwing them backward. The two then separated, and Quistis reached within to find the different energies roiling about in her head, humming and buzzing as if anticipating its use. She found an _aero_ spell, one that could wipe the area clean of the smoke, at least enough so she could better see the flagship when it approached.

Mentally calling the spell forth, Quistis felt as the atmosphere began to moan around her. Wind picked up speed as she summoned the magic, then she hurled it to the skies, the tremendous breath clearing a path through the smoke.

"What the hell are you doing?" the mayor suddenly asked. He breathed heavily and engaged a paratrooper, taking the soldier down in more time than Quistis would have needed. "They'll spot the tower!"

Mayor Dol's complaint came to a stop as a deathly shadow passed over the two. He raised his head to see Galbadia's gigantic flagship sail through, sending down waves of sharp wind. It came near, and then stopped, just short of the command center. Quistis noticed the paratroopers' swift retreat, and she knew the gesture could only mean one thing. They were planning to bomb the tower.

Upon the revelation, Quistis turned to the Mayor. "You need to clear the area, now!" she ordered. "I have to stop the bombs!"

"Wha—" Mayor Dol protested, but Quistis shoved him aside.

"Do it!" Reluctantly, Dol called for his militia forces to retreat and take cover, knowing his choices were limited. He watched as the colossal ship's underbelly creaked open, revealing to him the platforms that would release the bombs. Like the doors of the ship's dock widening, so did the Mayor's mouth.

Quistis called to everyone that could hear her, whether on the dispatch or in hearing range to clear the area. She was going to summon. When the SeeD deemed it safe enough, she closed her eyes and spoke the mantra required to summon a guardian force, a wild culmination of energy in its truest, untouched form. They were beasts of the magic arts, tamed only by those who could receive such a burden of combining consciousnesses.

With each nerve, Quistis allowed the forces to take her, to beat within her until she was nothing but her mind. When her eyes opened, she no longer felt apart of her body, but of the consciousness of the beast she called forth. She was no longer physically apart of earth, not in the form anyone would recognize her by.

Quezacotl, the thunderous feathered serpent had come.

* * *

Demilee suddenly halted, the gun she'd stolen from the dungeon in her hand thudding to the ground. She felt a heart that was not her own pump itself awake, stirring the energies inside of her that now asked to be released, to rip through her and find its way to the source. In response to the pulling, electric impulse, Demilee fell to her knees, clenching the cloth of her overcoat. Her lungs burned as though they would burst from lack of air, but she was breathing, short, pulsing breaths.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kal asked from behind. Rinoa knelt down to Demilee, noticing her labored movements as she tried to stand.

"Come . . . on," the girl pushed out. She reached for her gun, but Rinoa prevented Demilee's further strain and handed it to her. Slowly, she felt the warring energies inside of her begin to steady, and the foreign heartbeat found its rhythm with her own, before it completely dispersed.

Rinoa looked to Seifer ahead of her, unsure of what to make of the situation. Demilee pulled herself off of the resistance member's support, thanking her. "Are you okay?" Rinoa offered her. She simply nodded her head. The rest watched silently as she stepped forward beside Almasy.

"It's this way." Demilee pointed toward a small, stone alcove tucked away to the right side of the poorly-lit tunnel. A few boulders of rock blocked off the crawlspace. "It can lead us out of here," Demilee explained. The resistance instantly went to work to remove the blockade, kicking away access rubble and using their hands to pry it to the ground.

Footsteps came charging down the hallway, alerting the group to their presence. Coming from the shadows were a pair of unidentifiable guards. As they approached, Demilee decided that they were prisoners as well; the woman nor the man possessed the same outfits as Caelum wardens or militiamen. She was aware that the tall male in the hat had a gun in his hand.

"Stop right there!" the man yelled. Seifer pulled Zone away from the rubble.

"This is taking too long!" he complained, and hurled a fire spell at the boulders. They exploded into numerous pieces, leaving behind a darkened, jagged hole.

"Go!" Demilee ordered. "I've got this!" Without hesitation, the Forest Owls poked through the space Seifer had made, filing in and leaving Demilee to face the people before her.

"All right," said the cowboy man, holding up a hand as if it would stop Demilee's escape. She recognized his accent to be that of northern Galbadia—the hat was quite fitting. "Listen here, no need to harm. I just want a little information, is all." Demilee said nothing, so the man continued. "I'm looking for someone. I take it you're a Caelum citizen, right? Well, maybe—"

She'd had enough. Demilee backed away and she saw the caution flooding the man's blue eyes. Demilee dropped her gun, widened her arms, and with all of her strength slapped them together. Immediately, stone, brick and rubble darted from the walls and ground, smashing into each other to create a massive barricade of meshed stone between the three. She heard the girl that was standing next to the man scream, and before any further action could be taken, Demilee snatched up her gun and continued on into the crawlspace. She pulled the earth-wall she'd just made to close off the exit so they could not follow her.

Demilee took a deep breath and then continued on. Without running too far, she was back with Seifer's group.

The crawlspace had led them to an abandoned excavating site Caelum had once used to process earth sediment. It'd been a place she'd first discovered upon joining the salvaging crew. "Just straight down this way!" Demilee directed. After two turns and crossing over a natural, underground stream, Demilee came up to a rather shallow, wooden wall. It contrasted greatly against the surrounding rock formations.

Demilee pressed her gloved hands to the decayed, termite-bitten wood. Already, the last of the stone she'd absorbed in her cell had waned completely. She could no longer expel her trapped energy. Demilee looked backed to the group, and they returned her gaze. She came back to the wall and pointed her gun. With one shot, the recoil painfully jerked her wrist and she let it go.

"What do you need?" Seifer asked the helpless, wincing girl.

"We have to make a door or something," she said, pointing toward the wall. The soldier pulled Demilee back, and summoned another explosion like the one before, and she felt it play with the mass of magic inside of her. The fire blasted away a portion of the wood, but it was enough for them to get through.

"Amateurs," Seifer muttered.

Demilee led the team further into the darkness, lit now by Seifer and Rinoa's para-magic, though the girl's light was substantially weaker. They were faced again with another badly deteriorated, logged wall. Demilee pressed herself against it, feeling the wood creak. Then it splintered and broke away in a frenzy of flying shards. People on the other side screamed and scuttled away from the frightening commotion. The girl pushed herself up from the wet, stale ground, slightly embarrassed by her clumsiness.

A tattered child came away from the huddled group of hundreds of people dressed like him. His dirty face came before the makeshift torches which were simply huge trashcans with paper and oil burning inside. The rest of the Forest Owls poured out of the broken doorway, taking notice to their new surroundings.

All around, massive clutters of starved, soiled people cast their mistrusting gazes on them, mothers pulling their children closer to them and men bearing outdated rifles and rapiers. The coldness of the atmosphere wasn't only physical. Demilee reasoned that their behavior was expected, being that they were forced to remain in this dank underground to wait out the battle above.

"Autumn?" The boy's quizzical eyes immediately became ones of recognition and he ran toward Demilee, but a burly man stopped him.

"Who the hell are these people, Autumn?"

At the mention of her second name, Demilee looked to the person who had called it. The stalwart man, Deen, stepped forward, intimidating her again with his sheer size and muscle. He'd been the one that ordered for Melvoric to release her energy when the Galbadians had pursued Seifer's men. He'd sent her into that uncontrollable state on the excavating truck, threw her into a dimension she never wanted to cross again. The girl tensed and the man sensed her fear. "There's a damn war going on, and you're running around with Galbadians?" he yelled, waving his hand across to the people behind Demilee. She recognized the faces of the traders that lived in the fourth and fifth districts, and how suddenly their trust of her vanished. Even Dante, the "chauffeur" no longer looked at her the same.

At the mention of their enemy, the surrounding citizens gasped and receded even further into the shadows. All grew silent.

Then, Rinoa pushed forward, affirming, "We're not Galbadians!" Kal hissed her name in warning but she continued, "We'd never be hounds of the government like that!" Demilee watched the fire in the girl's eyes sweep over her soft, dark features. "We want to fight them off just as much as you do!"

A little less timidly, Demilee said, "We need to get through."

"They got us holed up in here, figuring the SeeDs can handle the battle," Deen answered through gritted teeth. "People are dying up there, and we're just sitting in here. . . ." Deen's anger simmered into frustration. He removed his rifle from eying the group. "Ain't no where to go, wherever you're headed off to. You're staying here, Autumn. Where the hell you trying to go?"

"You don't need to know jack shit." Seifer released his Hyperion, and it rose up, right in between Deen's eyes. "Move," he growled. Demilee thought to stop him, but she saw another person behind Seifer's emerald eyes and it frightened her.

"Get that damn thing out of my face, boy," Deen cautioned Seifer, in one long, low breath. He stepped forward, testing the man. "I said—" But the butt of Hyperion struck the poor excuse of a man square in his jaw and he tumbled backward, to the ground. All of Caelum backed further away.

"Let's go," Seifer told Demilee. She simply nodded, daring not to look at Deen. The man lay beaten, no longer standing as an opposition. The faction carried on silently through the aghast crowd. Caelum watched Demilee and her strange band of people leave through a well-concealed door above a stairwell in the far corner of the shelter. No one else ever joined Demilee on her plight for freedom—probably because unlike trading where something equal could be exchanged, freedom required sacrifice and loss.

Demilee was the first to climb the bars attached to the concrete wall. It acted as a ladder, leading up toward a lone hatchway. Above, she could hear the sound of gunfire and it was here that she felt the first surge of excited anticipation in the form of shaky fingers and a chaotic storm of butterflies in her stomach. Finally, freedom's hand reached out for her and she would take it, no matter what. With only a little hesitation, Demilee pulled on the lever that would unlock the exit. She groaned and pushed the rusted handle. When it budged and clicked open, Demilee nearly lost her footing.

The fruit-seller shot the lid of the hatchway outward and she caught a glimpse of the smoke-filled sky and the scent of bitter blood. The gunfire was louder now, and she peaked her head above, letting the sordid smell of burning coal and ammunition irritate her nostrils. Furious wind ripped through her unkempt hair, swallowing her breath.

"Hurry it up," Seifer said. She felt him nudge her to move, and she did so, crawling out of the hole and staying low to the ground. A short ways over stood Caelum's government building, set back, away from the hailstorm of battle and spraying bullets.

Then, Demilee heard the fierce cry of _it_—the beast that had called into her, stirring the energies in a violent maelstrom. Above, the massive golden wings of a bird-like creature beat into the air, dotting the skies, just as Demilee had envisioned it. It's body was branded with pulsing green lines of light, flickering like electricity as it sent white jolts at a flagship it was battling. Electrocuting energy slipped off of its sleek head, pouring over the metal of Galbadia's war weapon.

Demilee inhaled deeply as if trying to calm the tide within her, all the while forgetting to release the oxygen. The creature's otherworldly power channeled its way into Demilee's being as tiny, invisible particles. Like river water, it flowed into various compartments of her soul, locking on to mental and chemic links. The enormous bird then soared away from the battleship, searching the ground for the source of its declining energy.

"Come on!" Seifer yelled to Demilee. Immediately, she snapped out of her trance and came to her feet. She ran with Seifer's men, though her body felt weighed down. Somewhere inside of her, an overbearing sensation of wanting to fly with the thunder bird buoyed her running feet.

Ahead, there were no soldiers around to shoot so reaching the warehouse made for an easy escape. Off, in a circled enclosure, lay the rusted manufacturing mill where she used to spend long days smelting ironsand off Caelum's shore. In part, she was responsible for Caelum's technology and engineering. Within, Demilee found herself surrounded by the metal walls again, painted with years of lime and mold. Catwalks and climbing structures cluttered the entirety of the warehouse where no light touched. Even in the building's safety, Demilee could still hear the magic beast's screams.

"What was that thing?" Rinoa wondered, her voice wispy with awe. "It was so . . . majestic."

"I've only seen those things in magazines. . . ." Watts added. "They're called Guardian Forces, some form of para-magic."

"Those SeeDs are something, huh?" Kal said as he followed Demilee through the grated flooring. They ran past levels of out of commission manufacturing machinery, ripped conveyor belts and stores of boxes whose contents were concealed. Demilee detoured and climbed up a few rickety stairs. Above, she leaned over a wobbly, poorly painted balustrade.

"The exit's just down there!" The team followed her pointing hand to a narrow pathway that lead straight up to another doorway. "I have to grab a few things." The team nodded and headed toward the exit.

Without another word, Demilee went to work climbing over stairs and catwalks, passing around mechanical systems that stretched all the way to the deteriorated ceiling where rainwater spilled down. Safely tucked behind a shearing and compressing machine module, atop the left portion of a frame rack, Demilee spotted a large, orange shoulder bag. It was stuffed with her personal belongings, all packed and waiting for the day she'd have to leave. Quickly, the fruit-seller unzipped the bag and made sure what she'd stored still remained.

Satisfied, she hoisted the heavy bag upon her back, its width and size larger than any normal backpack. Demilee climbed back down the network of metal. Right where she had directed Seifer's team, the group stood there, waiting for her just outside the exit. Inwardly, Demilee beamed with a new kind of warmth, as if she was meeting up with long-time friends she hadn't seen in awhile.

Demilee grabbed a large chain of her keys from her over-sized, buttoned coat and inserted it into the bolted, misplaced door. Outside, surrounding them was the unending slew of forest, and clear, cold air. They were now standing in the Timberlands again.

"Never thought I'd be glad to see these trees again!" Zone cried, feeling great relief wash over him. Seifer brushed past Zone, keeping a vigilante eye on the environment. The gunfire and smoke were no longer assaulting their senses, only the sounds of nature and the coolness of an ended downpour. Disappointed, Almasy sheathed his weapon and watched Bright Eyes force close the mill's exit.

Demilee then threw her bag on to the ground and came toward nearby shrub. She pulled away loose branches and leaves to uncover a camouflaged Galbadian APC. The sheer bulk of the refurbished, red vehicle aptly concealed by branches surprised Kal to the point that he came beside Demilee.

"Well lookie here!" he joyously exclaimed. "The girl's got some skill." He whistled at the armored military carrier, passing an analytical eye over its well-maintained appearance. The tires had been augmented with slightly bigger ones, and its design had been carved away to make room for the new addition. He noticed the APC's Galbadian insignia that should have rested atop the railed compartment beside the huge windshield was missing. It'd been scratched away to reveal a handy work of painted, pied autumn leaves. More or less, the truck would keep Galbadian pursuit to a minimum. "You configured this yourself?" he asked, amazed with good reason. Even the two turbo engines that typically jutted out the back of the vehicle were modified with a simple bar of welded metal. Happily, the girl nodded.

"I can't drive it though," Demilee admitted. Kal gave her a small grin.

"All right then. Hand me the keys and let's boogie on out of here. . . ."

Soon, the resistance loaded on to the carrier, Seifer and Kal in the front, the rest situated in the back, and drove out from the brush. Demilee allowed herself to fully relax across from the rest of the group. Again, she'd planned well and believed in the dreams she made for herself. Again, she'd proven that her freedom could be maintained, and without a second thought of the fallen independence of Caelum, Demilee quietly giggled.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope the battle was good enough. It was my first time writing something like that, so of course it's not perfect. Very fun to write, and I'm sure that once the story is completed, I'll be going back making adjustments as I see fit. Well, Caelum has finally, and inevitably fallen, and there were losses on all fronts, but at least the Forest Owls are out of there! Next chapter, more truths will be revealed. Thanks for the review Divine Right! Yeah, I understand there are still a lot of kinks that need working, but I'm not the type to wait and publish, I'd rather just get it out there and then go back when all is said and done.


	9. Aftermath

_**Aftermath**_

Squall found himself examining the desolate, quiet battlefield as the smoke and milita began to clear out, as the pools of fire that swayed lethargically cast a sense of finality to the city-state's termination. He watched over at the loss of life, and for Caelum, the loss of it's remaining freedom. The battle had ended little over an hour ago, and it felt just like any other time Squall was forced to raise his gunblade—complete and absolute. The outcome had been anticipated by the Commander, even the huge amount of devastation, but looking at the scorched land, acknowledging the silence passing through like the dissolving smoke, he hadn't pictured war to end like _this_, on a whisper. The Galbadians had wisely retreated upon catching sight of Quistis' guardian force, but its flagship had remained, sustaining massive magical damage.

The Air fleet made a decision not to release the bombs upon the command tower, even when the guardian force had plummeted from the skies for inexplicable reasons, as if it had been shot down. Instead, the Major aboard the armada sent out a message from the ship's intercom, detailing the terms of Caelum's surrender, and without further ado, the House had complied and were granted three hours to strip themselves of power, gather all weapons to be confiscated, and to tend to the wounded before Galbadian occupation began. The short amount of time granted Squall as much as he needed to remove his SeeDs and cadets from Caelum.

"You were right. . . ." Quistis came up beside Squall, her low tone affirming the unfortunate, somber atmosphere they were now thrust into. The SeeD's sharp blue eyes were shaded over with somber fatigue. "The Senate is printing all necessary documentation and one that will adhere to Galbadian entreatments." Squall looked to her and she closed her eyes, adding in, "including the termination of our contract."

The Senate had immediately removed themselves from their hiding places and convened with the few lower government officials at the command tower to better assess the state of Caelum's Square, now property of Galbadia. It wouldn't take long for SeeDs to be formally released from their clients.

"Have you been able to contact the Headmaster at all?" Squall removed himself from the perch, and Quistis eyed him. He'd been fighting the front lines the entire time, and all he had to show for it was a bloody gunblade and a soot-filled face with no injury whatsoever. Only twenty-three, and already, he'd championed the battlefield.

"Yes and no," she answered. They passed emergency wagons and militiamen as they whipped by, carrying the dead and the wounded away. A scene they were both familiar with upon the first invasion. "Xu is now the temporary head of the commissions bureau in the Headmaster's absence. She said he'd just left suddenly. . . ." Squall, however, was not concerned with that. Cid Kramer took business leaves on Garden's behalf, that was nothing new. Though his actual appearance was rarely necessary, it was nothing to connect suspicion to, even if the Headmaster seemed to be a little off in the past few months. Quistis continued. "Xu has dispatched the hydrofoils. They're scheduled to arrive at Caelum's shoreline in approximately one hour."

Satisfied by Quistis' information, Squall felt he was able to address the remaining cadets and SeeDs. From the reports, four aspiring soldiers of his had fallen, but the loss was no where near as great as the militia's. Thirty were dead and twelve were severely injured, excluding the casualties from the previous battle.

"Has Squad A rounded the others up?" Squall asked. Together, he and his colleague walked on, through the throng of grieving, horror-stricken citizens as they assembled and located their loved ones. Squall tried his best to stay out of their path.

"Yes, they're gathering at the beach now," she answered, to which Squall nodded. They were silent for a moment, each contemplating the actions that were to be taken next. The Commander needed to speak with someone from the House, presumably the Chancellor, to finalize their contract. He wanted all of his men to be prepared to withdraw to the Garden vessels efficiently. Quistis, on the other hand, was struck with a yearning to assist Caelum, but she knew such sentiment would not be welcomed by them, nor her own organization. Caelum's outcome proved to be no different than other commissions she'd been assigned to, and she should have been used to it. But Quistis could not forsake her compassion and she was sure many other SeeDs shared the feeling.

All Quistis could do was move on and let it become another memory, another reminder to help her learn the many lessons of battle.

Ahead, a group of men, all attired in their majestic, brightly colored garb strutted toward them, accompanied by men with rifles. Their faces were hardened and ashamed, but both Squall and Quistis picked up on the distress that tightened their features. It was the first time either of them had seen the House members together and not shrouded in darkness. A small Galbadian gunship whipped by, pulling away a harsh air current.

"You laugh at us in our own despair. You think we've brought this upon ourselves and our people," the only woman of the group quietly asked. She appeared feeble and drawn inward, her dark eyes glassing any tears that would form. "Aren't you?" Squall said nothing but Quistis simply shook her head.

"I'm afraid you have SeeD all wrong. The truth of this battle was already determined, whether you choose to believe so or not. You hired us to prevent that truth, and we fought because it was our duty. That is all."

Her practical words settled no consolation in their hollow, power-hungry souls. Squall allowed for Quistis' softened, less cynical opinion to convey his own. However, he knew the House had addressed the question to him. After all, it was his own council that the Senate had contradicted; they should have surrendered and no one would have to die for a meaningless cause, especially the cadets who fought in the battle. But, Squall knew reality, and even he could not control inevitable outcomes.

Had he been younger and armed with the naivety of a fresh, newly appointed SeeD, he'd have maybe offered the members his own input. But over the few years that had passed, there was no reason to, not when they would fall on deaf ears.

"You have fulfilled the contract," the male on the far right stated. He appeared to be the youngest of the group and more resilient to his own emotions at his somber surroundings. The member stepped forward and handed Squall a folded script of paper, bound by a golden ribbon that displayed the Senate's official seal. It was simply a tree decorated by lights enclosed in a ring of birds. "Perhaps even we failed your Headmaster. . . ." The youngest Senate member smirked and the rest of the House sent him warning looks. Quistis uncomfortably folded her arms.

"What do you mean?" Squall sighed with resignation, but he was soon interrupted.

"Sir!" came the call of Mayor Dol. He briskly stepped forward, coming up behind Squall. There was a slight hesitation in his walk and the Commander could only guess that the Mayor had been injured. "It's the Chancellor, sirs." His eyes were rotating back and forth between his superiors. "He's been found murdered inside of the Ground. . . ."

Immediately, the members fell apart, asking questions and gripping on to whomever, taking another blow from the aftershock of their foolish battle. Quistis, expectedly, turned to Squall and he only turned away, folding his own arms. Once again, Caelum's issues were not their concern. Withdrawal was of the utmost importance.

The Senate began to follow the distraught mayor, ascertaining possible culprits in jumbled heaps of words.

"Seifer was taken to the Ground, Squall," Quistis mused, pulling at any abstract theories. The two knew Almasy, their former ally, not to be above killing to escape his capture, but would he be so savage as to murder an old, decrepit man? Had he gone against all morals that Garden tried to instill in him? "You don't think he did it, do you?"

"Hard to say," was all Squall would offer. Quistis then remembered when she'd seen Seifer, chained at the wrists, and accompanied by other people. It had been a strange sight for her to witness, especially when the militia had brought in an unconscious woman who'd allegedly attacked Seifer and his gang. "What?" Squall asked, noticing her sudden motionless action. She looked perplexed.

"I'm going to the Ground," she proclaimed, ignoring Squall's frustrated sigh.

"It's not any of your business. Seifer is no longer apart of Garden. Stop involving yourself."

"Squall," said Quistis, rounding to face him. "He was with a girl," Squall found no surprise there, "and as I summoned Quezacotl I saw her again and I felt the life force of my guardian force just . . . drain. I couldn't control it, and I ended up having to call off the summon in time to catch myself. Yes, I remember. Quezacotl filled me with such an urge to draw directly into that girl. I've never felt anything like it." Quistis thought for a moment, and then glanced at Squall again with a new resolve. "I'm going to the Ground."

For a moment, the bewildered Squall stared at Quistis, wishing she wasn't so driven to find answers that may not even have been connected to her summon malfunction. The otherwise articulate woman's words had no trace of clarity in them, and through that, Squall could understand her need to gather more information.

"Just be back in time for the vessel. . . ."

"Sir!"

* * *

"Man, oh, man." Irvine adjusted the wide-brimmed, black hat on his head. "I must be losing my touch with women. That's three in a row that turned me down. . . ."

"You sure there ever was a _touch_?" Selphie glared at him, then passed an eye at the heap of rock littering the ground of the dungeon. Selphie remembered the mysterious girl that Irvine had tried questioning and how she seemed to magically draw the cobblestone out of the walls and ground, with whatever gravitational energy she was summoning. When the mess of rock cleared, the girl had disappeared along with any further leads. It wasn't any ability Selphie had seen as a SeeD before. "Well," she sighed, totally stomped, "what now?"

Irvine fashionably swung his handgun and then directed it to the inside of his coat, a slight grin spreading across his face. "I assume wherever they went, Caraway's daughter is long gone from here. . . Back to the mission then."

"Ok," Selphie began, pressing a painted fingernail to Kinneas' chest. "What just happened? And how do you know his daughter is safe?"

"You didn't see her with that girl before they disappeared?" Selphie shook her head. "Well, anyway, she's apart of a resistance faction, and with a girl with that kind of magic in their company, there's no way Rinoa _wouldn't _be safe. Not to mention they've gone and ditched us," Irvine answered.

"So now you're going to forget about Caraway's daughter, and carry on the primary mission based on an assumption?"

Irvine nodded, saying, "It's part of my job, missy." Selphie looked up at him with her insatiable curiosity, but that was all he'd offer. Then, he looked back at the pile of rubble behind him, unsure of where the resistance members had run off to. "Magic, eh? This anything you SeeD people dealt with?"

Selphie shook her head. "I couldn't even classify that girl's magic," the small mercenary said. Irvine raised an eyebrow, ushering her to continue explaining. "Usually, a spell's classified by appearance, strength, and average time to summon. The one that woman used didn't fit under any."

He and Selphie had no choice but to backtrack, avoiding falling over from the round cobblestone and bricks cluttering their path.

"What do you know about maybe manipulation or something? That's what it looked like she was doing." Irvine asked, shooting blindly for some sort of answer.

"Well, ultimately all summoning is manipulation. Her's was kind of like on the level of a . . . a sorceress'."

"You think?" Selphie heard his surprise, but Irvine was quick to brush the suggestion aside. "She didn't look the type."

"You mean she didn't look _your_ type. Sorceresses come in all shapes and sizes, you know," Selphie argued. Irvine chuckled.

"Now, now. It was just a joke," he lied, unsure of the extent of the little woman's anger. "In any case, that's our girl."

At Irvine's erratic thinking, Selphie stopped her pace and said, "what do you mean? Now, how do you know that?"

"The subject's known to exhibit magic beyond the capabilities of SeeD. And she's got the traits CHIC told me about." Once again, Selphie felt bested, out-smarted. She hated when information could not be presented to satisfy her needs. If Galbadia hoped to find the Subject, and use her support on behalf of Irvine, she would need to know everything he did.

"Just that little bout doesn't really confirm anything," Selphie reasoned. She placed defiant arms across her chest. "Why don't you start spilling the beans, huh?" Irvine turned away from her irresistible, cutesy pose. He'd seen a woman's eyes burn with passion before, but her big, green ones incinerated much more.

Kinneas pulled out his holographic device. "Well, Sefie—er, Selphie, I can't say no to eyes like that, now can I?" His thin lips parted slightly, curving into a devilish smirk. When Selphie wouldn't have any, he receded back into a more serious, soldier-like face. "Her eyes were strangely colored, yellow-like. I know you've noticed," she nodded and he continued, "and her build matches this description." The cowboy pointed at the holographic document he'd pulled forth and handed to Selphie. She read for herself.

"It says she's capable of disabling para-magic and summoning. . . ." Selphie read on, and then gazed back up at Irvine. "What exactly is she?"

"A little prize the Galbadian military let slip away . . . and that's about as much as I can tell you, sweetheart." Irritably, Selphie handed his device back to him, but the emotion soon passed.

"Back to square one then," she pouted.

"If she is or isn't, it doesn't help much staying down here. Besides, we've got equipment to set up." At that, Selphie perked up and Irvine guessed he'd piqued her interest.

"Well, what about the Chancellor?" Would the House persecute them? Then, Selphie had another thought come to her. "If Caelum surrenders, it'll become a state of Galbadia, right?" Irvine nodded. "But wait—" Frustrated again at her lack of understanding, Selphie stopped their advance.

"The Chancellor's death will be classified as a casualty of war. We won't be made to stand trial if that's what you're thinking."

Finally, as they came to the exit, more footsteps could be heard in the distance. Kinneas assumed it was either more wardens trying to find the group of jail breakers still. As the footfalls neared, he heard familiar Galbadian military jargon.

"Looks like the battle's over," he muttered, remembering a simple mantra his instructors always beat into his head. _Take over, and reap the rewards. _

When the Galbadian soldiers neared, Irvine stepped forward and identified himself. Immediately, the ground troops lowered their weapons and allowed their superior to step forward. He was attired in the red gear of a Major, equipped with two machine pistols on his hips. His top limbs were fortified with heavy alloyed armor stretching down to his gloved knuckles. After recognizing Irvine as Galbadia Garden's specials operative, the Major removed his visor and revealed his dark eyes.

"Kinneas, what brings you here?" he asked, placing two hands behind his back. "I don't recall Caraway ever sending Garden aid to my armada."

"Orders from the Headmaster, Biggs," Irvine answered. The major glanced toward Selphie, but felt no need to ascertain her identity. He assumed she was with Irvine, sent by his Headmaster.

"Well," Major Biggs breathed in and then released. "As you can see, the battle is over and my men are securing Caelum. A hell of a job well done, I'd say." Apparently he took pride in defeating a nation guarded only by a few SeeD. Major Biggs then regarded Kinneas more seriously. "I thought those institute pansies taught you _not_ to leave isolated trails? . . . Just whatever you do, don't go sticking your nose in places that don't concern you, got it, Kinneas?"

Taking that as the Major's machismo display of who was top-dog, Irvine simply said, "Of course. . . ." The cowboy wondered if Biggs was warning Irvine against, in the Major's opinion, the 'poorly' handled assassination of the Chancellor. Any opposition to Kinneas' mission had to be met with termination, as per the orders, and Kinneas hated when the military's lack of understanding undermined that.

When the two were left alone again, Selphie bombarded Irvine with more questions.

"You know, I feel more and more out of place with this whole thing. I mean, I know at this point, it's all up to you to do what needs to be done, but I just can't take a backseat anymore. Just what the heck is going on? I mean why are we even here in the middle of a war, chasing down some girl we no little about nor what she's capable of?" she hastily got out in one breath.

Conceding, Irvine said, "I guess it's only necessary to at least brief you some more than I did on the way here."

"Why didn't you before?" she asked with irritation.

"Orders." Irvine let his answer settle before saying, "Let's get back to the car. We need to get going anyway."

But before the two could even begin moving again, another set of footsteps echoed down the dark halls. Irvine assumed it was more soldiers and tried urging Selphie to press on, but she waited until whomever made themselves known.

First, she saw the familiar knee-length boots SeeDs were required to wear, and then the slightly frayed, but relatively neat blonde locks of hair that lined the sides of the woman's face. It was a style that Selphie knew only this woman could pull off, and finally, the piercing blue eyes came into view.

"Quistis?" Selphie called, losing herself at the unexpected visitor. The woman paused, then seemed to calculate before letting her guard down and nearing the tiny SeeD.

"Selphie, what on earth are you doing here?" the Second-in-Command inquired. Her face was masked with soot and she looked exhausted. Selphie ran to her fellow SeeD, smiling gleefully. She inappropriately embraced Quistis before she was pried away and reminded to be more professional.

"I'm here on recon," Selphie was glad to answer. Before any more could be said, Irvine intervened.

"Hey, hey, hey, foxy lady. I'd love to chit chat, but Selphie and I need to get going. . . ."

Quistis surveyed the hat-toting man, finding him unfamiliar. "I don't believe I've seen you in Garden before," she said, more so to Selphie than to Irvine.

"Not _your_ Garden anyway," he answered. Quistis then recognized the implication that Selphie had been commissioned under an operation between two Gardens. Still, she wondered what they were doing in Caelum, especially if recon was their main objective. Couldn't that have been carried out by one of the cadets deployed with her and Squall? "Shouldn't you SeeD people be withdrawing now? The battle's over."

"The Chancellor was found murdered, Selphie. I . . . just wanted answers." Seemingly unperturbed by how alike the two felt toward their missions, Selphie only nodded, beaming with mischief.

"That was us actually," she answered lowly and Irvine cleared his throat, obviously made uncomfortable by Selphie detailing the stranger. Perhaps he should have told the SeeD more than what was necessary, only so she could understand just how covert the operation needed to be.

With Selphie's affirmation, Quistis looked away, nodding to herself.

"Hm?" Selphie placed her hands on her slightly bent knees, trying to get a better view of Quistis' perplexed expression. "What's the matter?"

"Selphie—" Irvine called, but she placed an index finger up.

Realizing Squall's words of not getting involved, or at least involving others so that her own personal questions could be satisfied, Quistis simply grinned. "Nothing at all." The second-in-command promptly pushed herself to stand erect. "We suffered some casualties, but the militia was . . . nearly wiped out."

Selphie placed a hand to her mouth, appalled. Quistis saw as her shock passed into realization and then purpose.

"Tilmitt here, to aid in the relief!" she exclaimed, throwing her superior the salute of a SeeD. Selphie's hand was placed beside her cheek, palm facing the space above her shoulder. Quistis nodded at the Garden protocol.

"We've still an hour to withdraw, any help would be much appreciated. Yours especially," Quistis said. Then, she pulled Selphie into another embrace, whispering into the woman's ear, "I'll keep in touch." She stared at Selphie until she was sure the SeeD understood. "I'll be in the Square, come there when you're ready." Then, when Quistis' work was done, she returned back down the shadows of the dungeon after nodding off to Irvine.

Kinneas watched as Selphie came back around to him, pulled the cowboy by the fabric of his vest and said, "When we get in the car, you're telling me everything, okay," to which Irvine wrapped his fingers around hers and replied,

"I hope there's something in it for me, sunshine. . . ."

* * *

Squall couldn't help but notice that his Garden subordinate, Selphie Tilmitt, appeared out-of-place against the burning, gritty clusters of blasted, fallen buildings and wounded people. Her tiny hands became illuminated as she summoned up basic curative spells that every SeeD was required to possess. She smiled reassuringly as the militiaman winced slightly, and then completely relaxed when the revitalizing energy passed into his bloody left rib.

After any large battle, especially onces that resulted in heavy casualties of their clients and SeeD, allied clean-up was necessary if it could be arranged by Garden, and Quistis had provided that upon their first battle in Caelum. It was a natural sight to see Garden members previously reserved employed to aid the injured.

However, what confused Squall was the fact that Selphie hadn't been dispatched solely as medical aid to Caelum, nor was Quistis aware of her presence here until nearly a half hour ago. Tilmitt had also been accompanied by a Galbadian special Op, both sent to Caelum under reconnaissance to Squall's understanding. It didn't make sense to him, nor Quistis, and even Selphie herself, but Squall had no desire to pry for answers that he most likely, wasn't meant to know. He especially couldn't comprehend why Quistis was so distracted by Tilmitt's appearance.

Out, beyond the flat, barren terrain stripped of the lush foliage of the surrounding Timberlands, Squall could make out a blurry image of the Peraminel Ocean. Above, the gray storm clouds broke away into blotches to reveal the delicate, glowing light of the sun. The sphere seemed at peace with itself as it watched over the sheet of silver water below. Squall see sharp, diminutive peaks along the horizon of the ocean, slowly, but surely nearing Caelum's shore. The hydrofoils Xu had sent out were approaching.

"Quistis," Squall called from the second-story balcony of the House. Inside, members of Caelum's government were trying to organize their resources and complete Galbadian request write-ups. They'd needed his signature in the official report. "Two Hammerheads are coming, be sure to round the rest of our men up," he ordered. "The LCAs should be at the shore within the next twenty minutes." Quistis only nodded, watching as Squall receded back into the building, headed for the beach.

"The Commander's so uptight, don't you think?" Selphie said, grunting as she lifted herself from her kneeling position. Quistis smiled slightly at the familiarity. The small SeeD allowed the paramedics to hoist another injured soldier onto a stretcher to be taken away by a waiting wagon. "I think he needs a vacation. . . ."

"That's definitely a no-go," Quistis mused. ". . . Where's your partner?" Selphie looked around, as if just realizing that Irvine was no where to be found.

"He's waiting for me at the town entrance," the little SeeD answered. "I don't see what's the rush, especially when you're surrounded by all of these injured people." Selphie's green eyes became distant, then they came back to Quistis.

"Well, it looks like we've done all we could for these people," Quistis somewhat whispered. She folded her arms, hailing down a cadet with a simple nod.

"Ma'am!" the female squad leader saluted, curiously eying Selphie.

"The Hammerheads are approaching. Let's round up the remainder and head to the beach." Enthusiastically, the cadet saluted again and ran off with her new orders. Quistis turned her attention back to Tilmitt. "Selphie, stay on your P's and Q's, and remember what I told you at the Ground, all right?"

"Yes ma'am," Selphie replied.

Before long, Selphie was compelled to stay and watch as SeeD, her organization, gathered at the edge of Caelum, leaving behind a scorched, conquered land. Then, she remembered her own mission, and how important it was, and why she needed questions to be answered.

* * *

Ooooh! Irvine's gonna' get it! I always believed that Irvine and Selphie would have immediate chemistry despite any circumstance or background they've been shoved into, and that chemistry may be the very driving force behind the humor in this story. Anyway, thanks Jade for your reviews! I apologize for the late update, but school and life have me deprived of anything remotely entertaining! There probably won't be any telling when I will submit a new chapter, but thanks so much for sticking with me! :D

Til next chapter!


	10. Eyes of Obel Lake

_**Eyes of Obel Lake**_

Much of the ride away from Caelum was filled with awkward, introspective silence for the Forest Owls. Escaping prison and hightailing it out of a failed city-state little over an hour ago had all of the members on edge. At first, they'd engaged in light conversation to shake off their nerves and restlessness, and then their discourse had progressively shifted into chatter among two or three members, before everyone eventually said nothing. The only person who seemed unaffected by what had transpired was the man named Seifer. Demilee soon learned that he perceived himself to be the alpha in the group, though sometimes, she picked up on that role belonging to Kal—the middle-aged man who was driving her vehicle.

No one particularly talked to Demilee, or even asked her any questions, a behavior different from what she found the social groups she'd been immersed in. Instead, the Forest Owls just tried to sneak glances at her, watching as she sat with one leg up for her chin to rest on, fiddling with the strings of her faded black boots that were too large for her feet. The one called Rinoa did ask for her name a little while ago, to which she replied, Autumn. From the rear view window, Demilee had noticed Seifer's quick blink in her direction. It wasn't that she didn't really trust the Forest Owls or that she meant to lie about her name, Demilee just learned that it was the best method in protecting her freedom. Besides, she was told that a name constituted only a description of oneself, it told nothing of the person she was, unless of course, it was that person's will to add meaning to it.

As evening began to fall, the dusty reddish-orange hue of the Lallapalooza canyon splashed onto the walls and faces of Demilee and the resistance faction. Occasional shadows passed over the interior of the vehicle as sliding images. The Forest Owls continued to stare at the odd girl as she thought for a moment and then propped herself up off of her seat, despite the space, to peak out of the high, small window. She glanced at the monstrous cluster of rock formations thoroughly basking in the burning fire of the sun. Just a short distance over, soft, white rays of light flickered like glitter over the peaks. The canyon was just as it appeared in the magazines she read. Unconsciously, Demilee's mouth opened in awe and she touched the window, as if to feel the texture of the scenery beyond.

"We got about thirty minutes now before we hit Timber," Kal announced to the group. He noticed the fuel meter and how the yellow needle bounced erratically back and forth, with no clear indication as to how much gas the APC had left. "Hey, uh, how much—" Then the vehicle violently shuddered after rolling over cracked, jagged terrain. Demilee hit her head against the ceiling, accidentally kicking Watts in his thigh. The man yelped in pain, and as the vehicle steadied again, Demilee immediately withdrew and huddled herself up as not to upset anyone else. "How much gas this tank carry?"

"Um, enough to get us to Timber, I think," Demilee meekly answered. Kal grunted.

"You're not sure?" As if the man could see her, Demilee shook her head.

"If it conks out, we won't be too far from town at least," chimed in Rinoa. "Hopefully. . . ."

"Um, what's in Timber?" Demilee found herself asking. Rinoa's ebony, flowing hair and gentle features were something Demilee had never seen before in all of her days. The woman looked like a precious porcelain doll the way she turned and offered her a friendly smile.

"It's a city that needs liberation!" the woman proudly answered. Some nodded in agreement. "It's been occupied by Galbadia for almost 18 years and we've been fighting ever since!"

"Galbadian occupation?" The amount of fear present on Demilee's face caused Zone to send her a reassuring grin, taking Rinoa's lead.

"No worries though, there are tons of factions fighting for freedom! . . . They're not as active right now, but, we, the Forest Owls, happen to be one of them!" Zone vehemently yelled. As Demilee had expected, the group obviously wasn't just travelers. They were accompanied by a man who appeared to be a SeeD, though he never affirmed it himself. Perhaps he was being just as discreet as the faction had been.

"Amateur freedom fighters," came Seifer's taunt. "Why don't you shove your big mouth down your a—"

"All right, Seifer," Kal interrupted, attempting to stop the bickering before it began. He too wished Zone would can it, but instead of voicing his feelings, Kal simply changed subject. "So I take it, you've never been outside of Caelum, huh?" He directed his attention back to Demilee. Everyone seemed to wait for her reply. When she didn't answer, no one pressed her. "No need to answer, the feeling's mutual. . . ." Kal surmised. "Well, just so you know, Timber ain't that much different from Caelum. Yeah, we got fight in us and we're a little more advanced, but everyone's fighting for independence—for freedom, you know?"

Even the faction, it appeared, wanted to grasp such an elusive ideal. Sure, Demilee could run from her home, escape Galbadian capture, but if the entire world was a giant collection of snares, then what should freedom mean if it could never be attained? Demilee felt her mind race through the enormous transition her life had been catapulted into, and how now, as she felt herself being shaken by the churning engine of the APC, she still didn't feel physically _there. _Now, the prospect of entering an entirely new city on her own again, far from where she'd ever been, frightened Demilee to the point that she did not want to think about it—so she didn't. All she allowed herself to think of was running—the chase_—_for it was the only thing she learned that constituted freedom.

Silence passed over everyone again, and Demilee decided that it'd become a game to speak and then not to speak. The group observed, and then fell quiet again, lost in their own heads.

Suddenly, a sharp creaking scream forced the group back into a state of alarm. Kal felt his hands tightening over the wheel as it convulsed uncontrollably, the vehicle's sturdy tires croaking and moaning—the sound of rusted metal parts. Then, the APC came to a halting, whiny stop before sucking everyone back onto the walls of their seats. The quaking ceased as did the shrieking gears. Kal tried to rev the engine and even restart it a few times, but his efforts yielded no results.

"Is that all the gas?" he asked, looking over the paneling of the vehicle to find any indication. Demilee climbed over the seat across from her. Zone and Rinoa slid over to allow the girl to get a better view. She seemed to slip and fit perfectly between Seifer and Kal, and Rinoa only guessed it was because of her very slight frame.

Demilee scanned the fuel gauge's needle laid flat toward F. Kal scoffed, saying, "Convenient." Demilee then scooted away toward the back of the vehicle to where she had been sitting. She kicked a small latch below her seat and it immediately popped upward, revealing a diminutive hatchway on the lower wall. Upon entering a code on a side panel, the exit whirred to life and lifted. The back of the vehicle came away, letting in the outside, warm breeze of the canyon. Demilee was the first to come out, stomping onto the grass beneath her boots. She wanted desperately to take the clunky footwear off and feel the dirt slip between her toes, but the needs of the resistance faction came first. Coming around to the screwed-in rubber top that protected the engine piping, Demilee twisted it out and smelled the scent of burning coal from the now exposed hole. Kal was beside her in no time.

"Yeah, it's out. I can smell the coal," she explained. Kal examined for his own knowledge.

"Coal," he asked incredulously, "that'll ruin the engine." Demilee shook her head.

"It would of at first, but I made it to where it won't. "

"And how did you do that?"

"I changed the gas and engine system from iron to adamantine." Kal eyed her, again amazed by how innovative she was.

"So what'll we do now? We were so close!" Zone complained. Vinny chucked his left ear, getting him to stop whining.

"It's just a small detour, calm down," he said.

By the time the group had decided to take cover in the Roshfall forest, a short distance east of Obel Lake, the night sky had finished its job in completely replacing dusk. Locusts and Squatter monkeys chirped together in a chorus of woodland music, and the nearby bellows of late-shift trains jutting down the surrounding track lines breathed fresh life into the heart of the forest.

They'd traveled through Lallapalooza canyon and into the Obel area, arriving at the latter on foot and it hadn't taken long for the group to realize just how valuable Demilee was in outdoor expeditions. Inside of her large bag the size of a balloon overstuffed with air were cooking supplies and preserved packaged foodstuffs among a myriad of other things she hadn't hesitated to share. So the faction made a campfire while Seifer scouted to clear the area of any aggressive monsters. When the food was done, the group settled over bowls of Cockatrice meat tenders with Fasticolon fin broth poured over it. They also learned the extent of Demilee's oddness, the way she combined several yogurts and other unlikely mixtures of seasoning in her own bowl.

"This forest is the only current province owned by Timber," Kal decided to share. He looked down into the bronze, murky liquid of the soup as the light of the burning fire skidded across its surface. "And it's been that way since Galbadian takeover."

Zone gulped down the rest of his soup and graciously asked Demilee if he could help himself to more. The member came away satisfied at his newly replenished bowl. "Technically," Zone said in between swallows, "Roshfall belongs to Galbadia, but they don't really care about it."

"But it's still considered independent!" Kal argued.

"It's a forest!" Zone exaggeratedly enunciated. "There are no people in here to oppress!"

Shyly, Demilee let out a laugh and the group seemed to follow. Then, she put her bowl down and breathed in the air of nature, still disbelieving of her newfound freedom. Across from her, Seifer was stretched out on his side, his elbow digging into the dirt of the ground. He was using the bent, poorly maintained spoon to fiddle with the remaining broth. She wondered if he'd enjoyed the meal.

"So what do we do about the, uh, the Base when we get back?" Rinoa, who'd been silent and a little distant suddenly asked. Demilee received a quick, unsure glance from the woman and again, the Forest Owls became quiet and Demilee couldn't help but feel as though she were the cause of it. It was understandable, she reasoned. People tended to have shifty eyes and uncomfortable postures when they tried to hide their distrust.

"We'll worry about that once we get there," Elise answered lowly.

More time passed, and eventually, the faction engaged in light conversation. Then, when their stomachs were full, Kal led the charge for Zone, Watts, and Vinny to help move Demilee's APC further into Roshfall so that everyone could at least have some form of protection while they slept inside of it. Demilee used the commotion to retrieve her things and slip away with her bag to handle small business of her own.

She pulled from one of the bag's pockets a long, black flashlight and fumbled to turn it on. The white light sent out a beam through the trees, catching a few gray bodies of small Squatter monkeys scurrying away to avoid the sudden disruption. Demilee learned that when they were present, the surrounding area was absent of immediate danger. As she walked through the darkness, guided by her pilfered light—in fact, everything she owned had been stolen at one time or another—she found a small clearing among the thicket, and the sound of rolling water sighed into her ears. She followed the burbling, taking note to the mounting chirps of crickets and other insects.

Something was calling to her, singing energy into her pores and distilling the other magical properties riled inside. Demilee envisioned the ethereal voice to belong to that of a mother, contentedly lulling a child to sleep, to dream. When she was near enough to pass through the bodies of more trees, she saw brilliant and azure diamonds glinting on the surface of a rounded lake, reflecting the bright, star-ridden sky above, shining like the naïve idea of hope. There was a soft, white smearing from the crystalline moon, large and full as if it were the eyes of the world, and Demilee dropped everything, arriving now at the pinnacle of the tranquility showering over her.

Raising her arms, Demilee whispered, "What are you asking me?" As if the moon could hear her, she waited, until again, she realized that it would never answer her. Demilee knew that whenever the moon was this beautiful and full, she _had_ to be underneath it. She _had_ to answer its call from beyond a cityscape.

* * *

The serene blue facade of the sky seemed to laugh at Cid when he finally mustered the nerve to look up at it. There was no cloud in sight which traditionally meant that Hyne wanted to watch over a particular area, down on humanity, whom the God had created. It was a silly old wives' tale he'd found himself believing more in nowadays. If there _was_ such a benevolent being that guarded and guided his progeny, then perhaps Cid wasn't as alone as he thought. Then again, only the sky knew, and he couldn't help feeling that it enjoyed watching him grasp at hope, switching back and forth with ideas, like any old fool would do when things were never certain.

His life had grown and spiraled out of his reach it seemed, and it was only fair that only pieces of him were left in its wake. Cid had taken the front seat in the past events that presented itself to him, and did nothing when action mattered, when it was time to stop preparing and to just face things. How he'd turned out now, sad and defeated, made him wonder why he even tried so hard to instill in his mercenaries beliefs that would eventually shatter and protect nothing. A man could build as many fortresses as he deemed necessary, reinforce it with things that could better suit hardships, but if he was too concerned with establishing enough protection and never looked out of the windows, how would he ever see the dangers coming?

Balamb Garden was never a source that Cid wanted to bury his fears and insecurities inside of. He never wanted to place layers of unforeseen failures and fail-safes that would end up hindering all that he worked for. But, alas, he was only an old fool, probably with little to no credibility for even developing such a militaristic institution. Balamb Garden was the herald of his dreams, a manifestation of the stronger, more powerful version of himself. It was able to do and function properly, without human emotions that impeded progress. This _pseudo_-_Cid _could take action, and he preferred it that way.

_"Cid, dear, you've run yourself into a hole, love. . . ." _

Those would have been the ridiculing, but gentle words of his wife should she come to realize what he'd been up to for the past few months. She would immediately recognize how ridiculously pitiful and incapable he'd turned out, probably because most of him belonged to his Garden now. Just at the mere thought of seeing his wife standing before him, her long, raven hair passing over her back like silk and her gentle smile and warm, dark eyes that disarmed him, sent him into an upheaval of despair and uncertainty.

She'd become what they both had feared and never touched upon; she'd disappeared from him. Cid indirectly heard from her on media outlets and in magazines. He'd received commission requests from Galbadia, hiring SeeDs to aid in government cover-ups as officials vied for their ideals over others. It was due, in part, to the sorceress' ascension. Cid had watched as parts of the world slowly began to shift, and all he could do was bury himself further in his work. His dear wife, Edea, had become the sorceress little children feared in the fairy tales that portrayed the beings as soul-stealing apparitions, and Cid had become detached, his way of making up for his failures.

She was the planned ambassador for Galbadia now, and he supposed president Deling saw her as a tool of power and domination over other nations, for who would contend with a Sorceress backed by an expansive military? Only few knew what Edea was however, until Galbadia unveiled her identity publicly and made it known that they were being supported by a Sorceress. When that happened, Cid knew nothing good would come of it. That was why he needed to act, and because he himself was incapable of doing so, Balamb Garden, the entity of his dreams, and possibly even his failure, _would_ act.

At first, Garden had been nothing more than a local military institute, taking in domestic requests. In those days, Balamb Town had been virtually eradicated of crime—not that the rate was ever high. Then, as technology stepped forward, so did Cid's Garden. The curriculum began implementing the use of para-magic, magic manipulation and weapons, and with that kind of support in regular combat, SeeDs grew to an international scope, and two more Gardens were formed, one in Galbadia, and the other in the northern region of the world.

They were the self-proclaimed peace-makers and keepers of the world, or at least that's how the media portrayed SeeDs as. The institute was perfect for young children to make a name for themselves, to protect a world in which war and death were so prevalent standard education seemed to be the lesser choice.

Cid's SeeD of the present were mostly children with troubled pasts, orphaned since before they could remember. The Sorceress War twenty-three ago had seen to that, and the Headmaster supposed it was only appropriate that those children had become one of the top SeeDs in their generation. They pushed for goals set within a militaristic background and never looked back. Most found that their ties to the past would not define them, cutting it away would protect them. Now, a recent influx of international students with completely different pasts, less shattered, began to mix into the student ratio, causing Balamb to adapt to an entirely new culture, one with similar ideals and yearnings—as long as the world couldn't fix itself on its own, they'd be there to help it along.

"You know, this can turn into a dangerous game should the Galbadian government find out what you've been dabbling your hands in. . . ." Cid Kramer removed his fingers from the gray pockets of his peacoat, swiveling his head to find the face of a man, taut and riddled with sharp posture. His golden hair, neatly brushed backward did little to reveal his true age of forty-three, still young in Cid's book.

Sadly, Kramer grinned, "It's never as simple as a game, Martine," he sighed. Looking at the Headmaster of Galbadia Garden now, Cid couldn't help but feel that he'd made the right choice. Martine Beaumonte was a man of dreams, just like Cid, with the same passion. His vast military background was one of the initial reasons Cid had chosen Martine to be the master of Galbadia's Garden. "I didn't expect to see you in person."

Cid glanced behind at the civilian vehicle Martine had been escorted in. A young woman that reminded Cid of one of his own stood tight-lipped and unmoving. The two men drew closer, but exchanged no handshake. No one ever had business in the Gaulg mountains in the isle of Balamb unless they were looking for trouble, but the two men could never be careful enough. In the distance, above the peaks the aquatic body of Cid's Garden could be seen. The two heard the melodic school bells echoing through the mountain air.

"Caelum's been captured, and it's only a matter of time before Deling turns his attention back to Timber," Martine said. "The SeeDs you deployed are still capable enough to—"

"Of course," Cid interrupted. "We both should be expecting reports soon." Cid knew that Martine noticed his anxiety and how removed he was, and he knew the committee in the Commission's Bureau detected his odd behavior as well, they just didn't say anything. ". . . I want this mission high and tight, no mistakes. If this should end like it should, at least one of us will walk away satisfied—for the greater good."

"They're your SeeDs, Kramer. I trust you trained them well." The two descended into a knowing silence before the female escort prompted Martine to make his exit. The Galbadian native replaced the black hat upon his thinning hair. "The world can not revert back to the time of Sorceresses, Cid. We've come too far to have anything threaten what we've built." Then, Martine turned from Cid, whispering, "My condolences. . . ."

The car roared to life, and then left Cid to his thinking. As he turned back to face Balamb Garden, his fingers slipped back into his pockets, finding an odd device in one of them. It was a grade A holographic projector—a military messenger of sorts. Martine must have tossed it there, and at the realization, it caused Cid to chuckle. Apparently, Martine still used old military intelligence tricks.

The old man looked back up at the sky, his smile disappearing. For his selfishness, involving people who didn't deserve to be handled by him, Cid Kramer knew he needed to pay the ultimate sacrifice. He only hoped he'd be prepared for it.

* * *

Rinoa refused to make Demilee feel out of place with the group, despite the fact that she'd been partly to blame for her faction's imprisonment. There were many things she didn't know about the world, but she was sure that the woman who had stormed and trashed their base couldn't be the same, quiet, insecure person they'd been traveling with. Of course, Rinoa knew that it could have been a guise, and that aiding the Forest Owls to get to Timber was somehow only serving the girl's agenda, but the more she toyed with that possibility, the more implausible it seemed to be to her.

It was the reason why she was trailing the strange girl through the forest, overcome by curiosity as to where Demilee was headed and why she didn't seem to feel the slightest fear of walking through alone like Rinoa did. Following her had been easy enough, but then the girl had picked up speed upon approaching a clearing, and Rinoa had to pick up her pace fully just to keep up with Demilee.

As she watched, poorly camouflaged by the trees, she took in the peaceful scenery of a lake glowing by the light of the moon, its beauty just as new and foreign as Demilee.

The girl had her arms spread and her head was pushed back, as if physically swallowing up the atmosphere. Then, Demilee became frantic as she pulled her bag off of her back and dug through her items inside. She grasped a plastic container holding small black seeds inside. Demilee jiggled the glass as if to listen to the seeds beat against each other.

As she went to work digging and planting, Rinoa opted to use the opportunity, as strange as it was, to converse with Demilee, to try and understand her a little.

"Autumn?" she spoke quietly, as to not startle the woman. Demilee jumped slightly and turned from crouching completely over to find who had called her second name. She looked relieved. "Um, could I ask what you're doing?"

Both appeared very pale under the silver-blue light, as if they'd been carefully made from ceramics. Demilee came back to her work, clearing away more soil from the small hole she'd created.

"I'm leaving my mark on the world," she simply answered. Rinoa furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, not sure if Demilee was purposely being cryptic or if she was just answering practically. The way she said it with such conviction made Rinoa believe the latter.

"By planting seeds?"

"Not just any seeds. These are Moonbay lillies. They'll grow four feet tall and only bloom on a full moon." Rinoa had heard of those flowers before. They were pretty rare now, and could only be found in the west, near Winhill. She never saw one bloom before.

"Where did you get the seeds?" Rinoa asked, coming beside Demilee and kneeling. Before them was Obel lake, luring Rinoa to look its way and get lost in her thoughts.

"They were a gift to me," she said, revealing nothing else. Rinoa wanted to know why the girl had left Caelum, and why she chose to head to Timber with a resistance faction she'd nearly killed. Was this an act of desperation? Was the faction jeopardizing themselves by having her tag along? And why hadn't she showed any more signs of possessing para-magic after they'd broken out of prison? Just who was she? "Did you enjoy the meal?" The girl's simple question forced Rinoa out of her mental captivity.

"Yes, it was really good," she smiled and Demilee returned the gesture. Rinoa grew more serious. "Autumn, I'm sorry, but I'm just really confused by you. You know so much about cars, cooking, and—well, I don't know. You're just. . . ."

"Just what?" Demilee asked, though she didn't sound hurt, she sounded as if she wanted Rinoa's words to be coaxed out of her. "Different?" The two turned from each other, Rinoa first. "It's all right, I feel the same. You guys talk and then you don't talk. Even now, you feel awkward around me—" Demilee jerked her hands up disarmingly, "not that it's surprising." Then, a little quieter she added, "I _did_ destroy your base. . . ."

"Are you sure that was you?" Rinoa questioned, releasing her own thoughts on the entire situation. This woman, shrouded in so much enigma, cooking for her and planting seeds, was far removed from the memory she had of the demonic figure engulfed in flames charging at Seifer. "Do you remember everything?" Demilee nodded.

"I didn't mean to though," she pleaded. "It shouldn't have happened." Rinoa believed her.

So they would not fall silent again, Rinoa asked if she could help plant the black little seeds, to which Demilee kindly obliged, then she began telling the Caelum woman bits and pieces about herself, nothing important, nothing the moon didn't already know whenever she found herself talking to it.

* * *

Ahhhh! I'm back! I apologize for the loooooooonnngggggggg wait, but the semester is over and done with, then I relaxed, then I stayed in bed, then I slugged around, and well, you get the idea. Eventually, I started writing something I wanted to write for once and decided to publish this next chapter! (Oh, how I miss this story!)

Anyway, I hope Cid's part wasn't too confusing, what you can bet on is that the sorceress Edea IS his wife (Insert trite dramatic music) and that her demise may be near. Also, I really liked the inner complexes of the Forest Owls and their new addition. I still wanted to portray the younger members naivety, especially in the face of a seemingly innocent young woman. I wonder what Demilee's intentions are? Whatever it is, she's not the only character with secrets!

Until next chapter!


	11. Orders

Synopsis thus far, since the reading can be quite dense:

The city of Caelum that mysteriously survives on trade and salvaging alone has become a target of the Galbadian government. As a result, the city has hired SeeD to protect the city. Quistis, Squall, and SeeDs-to-be enter Caelum and brush back Galbadian advancement, only for Caelum's militia to be heavily reduced. The Forest Owls, consisting of Rinoa, Kal, Zone, Watts, Seifer, and other members ambush a Galbadian supplies vehicle before it can make it into the city. They retreat after catching a warning from Kal that they are under pursuit. Demilee, codename Autumn is apart of the Caelum salvaging crew. After getting caught in between Galbadian pursuit of the Forest Owl's getaway train, Demilee is forced into a monstrous state by a mysterious black device one of her crew members force on her. She crashes into the Forest Owls' base, killing the chasing Galbadians and toppling the base before being knocked unconscious.

Meanwhile, the SeeDs are forced to fight another battle for Caelum because Cid's erratic behavior causes the SeeDs to be _stuck_ without further orders. Before another battle ensues, Quistis catches sight of Seifer after his unexplained withdrawal from Garden. He and the Forest Owls are taken to prison by Caelum officials. After the battle, the Galbadians are ordered to stop their advance. Selphie, another SeeD deployed into Caelum under a joint mission with Galbadia's top-notch sharpshooter, Irvine accompanies him in trading a stone with the Chancellor. However, the shady old man doesn't keep up with his end of the deal, and is killed by the SeeD and sharpshooter. It seems the two are hunting down a young woman with extraordinary powers for the Galbadian government.

The Forest Owls eventually escape, using a stolen vehicle the eccentric Demilee had stored away. She seems to have left Caelum completely for the first time. Squall signs the SeeDs' release form, and Quistis meets up with Selphie, telling the SeeD to keep in contact with her because of all the strange events happening in Caelum.

Cid meets up with Headmaster Martine in a remote location, and they talk briefly about the SeeDs' next mission in Timber.

Now, the SeeDs finally withdraw from Caelum, and Squall still has questions.

* * *

_**Orders**_

The sound of the ocean lazily pulling itself to and fro was constant and familiar to Squall; it had always been apart of his childhood and his life in more ways than one.

The waves, burbling up white foam, rose and fell like a crumbling wall made silver by the setting sun. As cold froth quietly slunk to his gritty boots, they erased the footsteps he'd tread on the sand as if to heal the battle scars of Caelum's land. Only, the city's war had not ended—the sand was made anew by the tides, but the imprints remained. The House's foolish pride was probably the only thing that would stay behind when the Galbadian military implemented their governmental control, and if Caelum ever did rise and become a city of resistance at least the likely bloodshed would bring in more capitol for the Garden he worked for.

But Squall allowed his thoughts to stray away from what had ensued, and focus solely on the Garden Hammerhead slowly making its way over the ocean tides, preparing to pick up his men. As ordered, all had assembled on Caelum's shores, some injured but capable, and four cadets dead. His men seemed to handle the loss well from what he could tell. Any soldier knew death and the violent passing of a comrade, not only through the intense mental training SeeDs endured but also through the unkind reality of the world. Even before the Commander had entered Balamb Garden, he'd known loss. He also knew adaptability and the fact that people still woke up to see the morning and that people found ways to protect themselves from the following pain. It was human nature, an extensive survival instinct—kill or be killed, push for strength, or _push for strength_—and that was all Squall was willing to see it as, any other way or belief was hopeful thinking—and that could easily get one killed.

The Commander quickly caught sight of the elongated mouths of the F-rt class assault rifles mounted onto the heads of the aquatic blue hydrofoils. The narrow but sturdy design gave the assault boats a more simplistic design, but it allowed for easy load and glide. As the Hammerheads neared the shoreline, pulling the water underneath it apart, Squall turned to readdress his men. As ordered, they were gathered along the beach, the injured sitting, the cadets pacing about with anticipation. When all was said and done, the ones that handled their duties and responsibilities like SeeD, would attain the privileges of becoming one.

Each Squad Leader from the four groups deployed answered Squall's summon and were soon before him, saluting. He noticed that their eyes hung and were muddled with the weariness and sadness of battle and death.

"All present and accounted for with the exception of the slain. . . ." the Squad Leaders reported. The words were pushed out with ease despite the weight they carried. Squall couldn't sympathize however, he could only understand. Human loss happened, but attaching the term c_omrade_ or _friend_ made things a hell of a lot more complicated. It created pain and despair.

"This loss is a hard one," Squall attempted. Consoling his men was never a forte of his, especially when the words he spoke lay across his mouth like an invisible, minuscule wind, barely felt, barely noticed. "However, for the rest of you, this battle has tested your endurance and your display of SeeDship. Continue the fight."

The Hammerheads pushed back foamy sand as it grunted and stopped a few feet short of the Commander and the other SeeDs. The metal chins of the boats grunted, and almost simultaneously, the dark-painted bills pried open from one another with one, slow, creaking sigh. Inside the middle vessel, the opening cavity revealed a woman who matched Squall's age and stern features. She stood with the practiced, calculating posture of a SeeD with experience far beyond her years.

The brunette, whose hair barely touched her shoulders, marched down the spread, elongated ramp, keeping her hands tightly clamped before her.

"While the world spirals into chaos, this city sleeps now," Xu commented, louder than she should have. Her brown eyes surveyed the shoreline, made out the few dead bodies of the SeeDs-to-be, and when she recognized a cadet whom she'd tutored before, her eyes sharply cut away, coming back around to Squall. Dead aspiring SeeDs were always the toughest to accept. He allowed her to recollect her thoughts. "Do you have all of their names so that they can be cataloged correctly?" Her voice was unwavering, but it carried a certain softness to it.

"Quistis has that covered," Squall answered, to which Xu simply nodded.

Other SeeD personnel filed out of the Hammerheads, guiding stretchers with empty body bags toward the cadets that offered their help. The dead would be placed below, in the basement cooler to be preserved before they arrived back at Balamb for a proper burial.

"You're the new Head of Commissions?" Squall asked rather bluntly. Her appearance in Caelum was unexpected, especially since he'd heard word of her new promotion.

"I know what you're thinking; what am I doing here?" Xu mimicked his thoughts with a jab at his brooding nature. "There's much to be discussed." At that point, Squall couldn't care less why she was here. If Cid sent her, then so be it. The Commander wanted nothing more than to prepare for the debriefing and to be removed from Caelum's land. Xu's attention was given to Quistis as she moved toward them, saluting when near enough.

"Mission complete, though unsatisfied on behalf of the House," Quistis stated. The boats were just about finished filling, but there were still preparations and procedures that needed to occur before departure.

"Galbadia didn't hold back at all, did they?" Xu asked. She noticed the colossal Galbadian flagship hanging over the central square, made murky by the smoky sea of clouds in the distance. "Caelum's independence is lost, but we did the job, correct?" Quistis nodded.

"Tell me," Quistis said, "was the Headmaster ever aware of the Senate's breach of contract?"

"I would suspect not," Xu answered. When the last cadet boarded, the rest followed Squall's lead into the middle hydrofoil. "Cid hasn't returned, not even after I left for Caelum. He just kind of disappeared on us. He didn't even tell _Nida_." Cid's disappearance explained why Squall and his men had no choice but to stay and fight for Caelum again. Xu was in no position to rewrite contracts, nor withdraw SeeD without the Headmaster's consent, even as Head Of Commissions.

"Where could he have possibly gone?" Quistis asked. Squall heard her escalating alarm and felt unsettled by it. He knew she couldn't dismiss his erratic behavior so easily now, and since his commission had ended, Squall could focus more clearly on the subject at hand: what kind of deal did the Headmaster make with the Senate on behalf of Squall's services?

Xu simply shook her head, just as confused. "He left no indication of how long he'd be gone either," she continued. "Only a letter that I was not ordered to open until arrival, here."

Inside the Hammerhead, the SeeDs walked into a narrow corridor, splitting off from the others. The debriefing room was equipped with two rows of seats for six members separated by a cleared table that ran the length of the cramped space. A short distance away was a wide-screen terminal trapped in midair by a bar attached to the ceiling. The screen lit the dim room with a bluish-white hue, displaying Balamb Garden's yin and yang insignia. Squall felt himself relax at the feeling of the engine's smooth but light vibration.

He was reminded of the time he'd been a fresh candidate, ready to serve SeeD, to change the world. Eventually, the cadets who would move on to become SeeDs, would revisit where he was standing some time or another and see what journey their naivety brought them on. Squall had little regrets in the past, instead, he simply kept moving forward so that he could reflect later, and even then, reflection wouldn't last too long. Analyzing memories never served much use for Squall.

Methodically, Quistis reached into a small cabinet above the seats for one of the small, glass bottles that would restore her vigor and freshen her mind. A SeeD was as good as dead without enough energy for casting and summoning. That was a rule of survival for SeeD—never to be caught unawares.

"To all levels of Hammerhead, right and left flanks, we will be departing in one minute. Please refrain from utilizing the showers, all cleaners, and mechanical rejuvenators until well after the ten minute mark to avoid complications. . . . Hammerhead Base headed to sea," informed the navigator.

All of Squad A, whom Squall supervised, waited in the smaller briefing room next door. He knew they were nervous, excited with anticipation of knowing how well they'd done, and exhausted all the same. Upon arrival back to Balamb, Squall would have to be present while the Headmaster read the official, final report. It would be written up by SeeD support whose task it was to study the cadets during the entire mission. The report would detail every event the SeeDs and cadets were required to undertake, as well as how every situation was handled, down to the intricate methods used. Not only were the cadets tested on their obedience and skills at following orders and functioning as small-unit operatives, they were also examined on intelligence and their innovativeness of using the limited resources around them. If one failed, they'd have to try again next spring, if they were still of age to do so.

"The Headmaster's absence won't delay the ranking and commencement process, will it?" Quistis asked, finding a seat across from Squall. The engine revved to a louder hum as the Hammerhead picked up speed. "We can't start without him."

"It's hard to say. I trust he wouldn't be so careless," Xu shook her head, reaching into a pocket of the table before the three. A drawer jutted out with an audible beep as she swiped her key card in the appropriate slot. "However, there are more pressing matters at hand."

Squall eyed Xu as she removed a white envelope from the drawer and neatly placed it on the table. Quistis suddenly remembered she carried the official seal and proof of Caelum's surrender and the signed release of SeeD. She too placed what her hands possessed on the table, though Xu didn't seem to notice.

"At approximately, 0700 hours two days ago, the Headmaster left his office, leaving only this letter," Xu said, pointing at the time Cid had written on the top corner of the letter. It was the only indication of his departure. "Three squads, A through C were dispatched two weeks before, to Caelum. Within that time, the Commissions Bureau was receiving calls, video messages, and private agents left and right for commissions all throughout the Galbadian continent. Most of the requests were made by Galbadian government officials."

Quistis let out a chuckle, interjecting, "That's nothing new." Xu only nodded, hating to be interrupted.

"Yes, what with Galbadia's never-ending wars and subjugations, our offices have been overrun lately. However, there was one request that reached our headquarters one day before Cid left. It was from a General of the Galbadian army. . . ."

"What's the letter say?" Squall asked, wishing Xu would hurry things along. Her prattling seemed meaningless to him. Galbadian officials requesting SeeD aid was common at Balamb. What was so surprising that one more sent in a request?

Used to the Commander's impatience, Xu complied and began opening the envelope, squeezing in more information while she could.

"Normally, you know I wouldn't divulge this kind of information to you, but the request has me worried, and the fact that the Headmaster obliged is beyond me."

"What kind of request was it?" Quistis asked. She took another sip of the ether, finding the crystalline liquid bitter but rejuvenating. Slowly, the energies stirring within her grew and multiplied.

"The request is Class S," Xu answered to which Squall raised an eyebrow.

Requests of the highest caliber were reserved for only the most skilled SeeD. Those who proved to be exceptional, not only in the art of battle and magic, but in the art of intellectual warfare. Though SeeD was exceptional in and of itself, the mental burden each mercenary trained to carry sometimes proved overwhelming to the mind. Regular evaluations were necessary to keep suicide rates as well as other mental illnesses to a minimum. Evaluations and subsequent treatment effectively reinforced the stronger SeeDs, especially when Class S missions tore down all things human in the spiritual essence of its challengers.

Xu removed the slim piece of paper from the envelope. On its back, Balamb's insignia glowed and switched through shades of blue. Unfolding the letter, Xu's dark eyes clouded over with confusion after a moment, then she looked to the two SeeDs, her expression changing again.

"That request has now been signed into a commission," she informed, her voice betraying her uncertainty. Xu looked to the letter again and read. ". . . Upon the fall of Caelum, Galbadian attention will now be placed ever so tightly on the occupied Timber. Insurgents and activists against the Galbadian government become bolder and bloodthirsty each passing day. It is only a matter of time before another massacre bloodies the streets of Timber. . . . General Caraway.

"Headmaster's Order: Two SeeDs: Counterintelligence agent Quistis Trepe and Single-Unit Combat Specialist Squall Leonhart. Requested by Forest Finch, a Timberian-rooted resistance faction, to aide in the assassination of Galbadia's newest ambassador scheduled for arrival in Timber. And the demise of Galbadian forces within the perimeter of the city." Before the two addressed in the letter could speak, Xu placed the letter on the table for their viewing and said, "Looks like there's no rest for you two so long as Galbadia wreaks havoc on the world."

"I don't understand," said Quistis. "Removing Galbadian troops from that city has been an endeavor by its citizens for 19 years. Even with the help of just two SeeD, is liberating Timber even possible?"

"How long will we be stationed in Timber—the commission doesn't say?" Squall asked, laying the order back on to the table. He noticed the short sentences Cid used, and the rampant contractual loopholes.

"Then, that means you'll be staying indefinitely," Xu answered. "Until Timber's liberation."

There was again, another silence for a short time. Quistis turned her head, to give her obligation thorough thought, and Squall simply accepted. It was the duty of SeeD, of combat specialists like himself—to serve Garden with purpose, to be hope for a devastated world. The mantra was bred into the creation of SeeD, he was taught all about duty growing up, and so was Quistis. Surely, she knew why she'd been chosen to carry out a Class S mission as ordered by the Headmaster.

Together, Squall and Quistis had taken down countless foes on different fronts of the war. They'd fought Galbadian and Dollet alike together, infiltrated militaries and governments, aided _and_ prevented overthrows, even battled against an entire platoon, coming out barely standing, but _alive_. Assassination and the liberation of a nation would only be added to their list of SeeD accomplishments—accomplishments they'd obtained at such a young, daring age.

Xu continued. "What has me worried is what this all implies. The Headmaster, I'm sure, thought this through and wouldn't carelessly throw his SeeDs away for profit. However, the factions in Timber aren't up to par with the military combat-wise, which is why SeeD aid is needed, and they've been known to have major consequences for the stunts they pull. They may win a small battle with the Galbadian government, but half of their team would be wiped out. They've weapons and resources available to them, but none capable of turning the odds in their favor. . . ." She paused, looking to Quistis, and the blonde understood where she was going.

"Who's funding those factions, and how are they able to afford SeeD?"

"Precisely," Xu nodded with a half-smile. "Even if the General of Galbadia has paid for our services, liberating Timber is a separate task, made by the Finch Resistance."

"The same could be said about the Senate in Caelum," came in Squall. "They used trade, replacing monetary values, and yet, a deal between our Garden and their government was made."

"It seems identical," Xu added. "And to top it all off, carrying out commissions from both sides is acceptable, in regards to maintaining our neutrality."

"Just not at the same time," Quistis finished. "Assassinating the sorceress is one thing both the general and Timber factions want. Still, working with both sides simultaneously could put us in a compromising position." Quistis relaxed in her seat. Looking away again, she muttered, "What is the Headmaster thinking . . . ?"

"Who cares?" Squall replied. "We're a covert organization. General Caraway knows that. He compromised his own position by employing us. To say anything to anyone among his ranks would be foolish on his behalf. If the goal is wiping out the sorceress, then that is what we'll do. Liberating Timber is just an added bonus to the faction."

"Squall, I wish I could see this issue so pragmatically like you," said Quistis, "but I just can't. Something's up with the Headmaster."

"I agree, "Xu offered.

It was Quistis who had knocked Squall out of his confused state when he'd been questioning on the contract between Caelum and his Garden, and now, she was just as confused.

Squall sighed and said, "Even if there is something going on with the Headmaster, we have our duty to carry out. Sitting around discussing and questioning it does nothing. A battle will still be waged, an assassination will be carried out." Commander Leonhart's blue eyes roared like a determinate soldier's, the eyes of a man who could move people to act, to fight, to aspire to be just like him. It was why so many cadets admired Squall, why they tried so hard.

"Commander . . ." But Quistis could say nothing. What he had declared was truth, and Quistis couldn't argue with truth. She could see that Squall too was worried for the Headmaster, but their duty to the order he wished them to uptake was of the utmost importance.

"Incoming transmission," announced the navigator of the Hammerhead. His voice sliced through the air, returning everyone to the drawing room they'd just received orders in. "Sending it through."

The screen to the right of the three whirred and came to life in a vibrant azure color. Balamb's emblem faded, and the word 'loading' blinked on in bold, red letters. Then, the screen went black only to flash again with the image of an unknown middle-aged man. Text began moving across the screen, detailing their mission in full. This would have been Xu's task, explaining thoroughly what SeeD members were to do, but instead, she'd been replaced. This surprised her as well.

Upon arriving at Mandy Beach, west of Timber, the Commander and his partner were to meet with a member of Forest Finch, and together travel in a provided vehicle into their base. Staying prepared was a must, however, Class 2 through 5 para-magic and GFs were highly prohibited. The SeeDs were to blend in with the faction, appear as if they too were members. A man, who referred to himself as Kal, may be spotted within Timber. He was of high interest to the Galbadian army for his organizing of various factions, and crimes against the government. If spotted, the SeeDs were to disclose their identity to him and his members as well. It was protocol.

Once the SeeDs were successful in entering the city undetected, another member of Resistance Faction Finch would begin the debriefing.

Use utmost care in this mission, my SeeDs. Once the Sorceress's assassination is carried out will all of your offensive power be available to you. Use all resources available for a prompt retreat and integration. Represent Garden well and aid the faction in their liberation of Timber. Best of luck—Headmaster Cid Kramer's words.

* * *

Hot water, infused with Sylkis Greens, beat against Squall's back and shoulders, soothing his achy, weary muscles. The Greens were known to repair and link with agents of muscle construction. They were used on Chocobos and other mounting animals to increase stamina for extended use and for their soothing effect. The Greens were refined and made less potent for human use. Only a few shower stalls were equipped with the purple-tinted water on the Hammerhead. Some SeeDs were allergenic to the herbs when it made contact with magic-infused skin and muscles.

Squall's fingers combed through his brown locks that ran just past his shoulders. He lifted his head, marveling at how just last week he'd gotten it cut. Sometimes, it took months just for his hair to grow an inch, other times, it took far shorter. Hormonal imbalances of all types were a main concern regarding SeeD's physical and chemic health. Harnessing guardian forces and wielding its powerful magic had tremendous affects on the human body, as evidenced through Estharian researcher Dr. Odine's studies.

Over the years, the chemical relationship between magical forces and humans improved, and science soon had a cure to combat the negative effects that relationship sometimes created. Still, many critics were weary, and blamed the many unexplained allergies and imbalances on the otherworldly powers of those who possessed it. Their widely published criticism put a stigma on the art of summoning, comparing it to the vicious sorceresses of war, from which the system was modeled after.

Even Garden caught some of the flame from angry parents who felt tricked and deceived by the potentially dangerous effects of magic, and withdrew their children from the school. However, the power of the guardian forces, whatever the bad science, was needed by Squall and his men. It allowed them to perform the tasks they were to perform, efficiently and with little trouble. Small inconveniences like extended hair growth was a price he'd gladly continue to pay.

Above the stall, where rows of circular windows overlooked the darkening sky, a sliver of blue, silver light came through. It broke away the docile clouds that had formed from the passing storm. Squall turned the brass knob to stop the flow of water, grabbed for a towel. He dried his hair and concealed his waist before stepping out into the changing lockers. Warm steam flowed from the bathroom, following him as he walked further away. He didn't bother to turn on the dim lights of the locker room, instead, letting the lunar light outside illuminate his path. The moon too seemed to follow him, watching as he silently thought to himself.

It was so long ago when the moon had disappeared, blackening the sky and spinning the planet into chaos. Squall had only been 3 years old, but from the trauma he'd faced, he remembered that night so clearly. The massive tidal waves crashing inland, wiping out entire forests, and demolishing human establishments. The horrendous scream of his caregiver, whose identity he couldn't remember. The other children in the orphanage crying. The media bombarding the public with questions and no answers, just fear.

For seven nights, the moon disappeared, and each day, the planet died more. When it did return, on the eighth morning, things were no better. The world was devastated—entire crops lost, natural landmarks and wildlife destroyed, and the loss of life, both indirectly and directly. Scientists were searching for answers, but could not find any. The media distracted the masses into focusing on rebuilding the world and their lives, striving to return things back to normal and to just forget, after all, it was human nature to move on.

When Squall was fully dressed, in a sleeveless undershirt and sweatpants, he took from an upper compartment three small, glass containers. He then leaned against an indent of the wall, equipped with a full window from where the black ocean, the moon, and the sky it commanded could be seen. The Commander gulped down the dark-green tinted bottle. It was the closest thing to a plate of dinner, filled with heavy supplies of vitamins, minerals, and nutrients that he needed to intake daily. The second bottle would take care of his spiritual needs. It was a concoction of ingredients that made up ethers and hi-potions, mixed well to produce a cleansing effect. Drinking the bitter elixir was easy enough, but the process of a spiritual distillation was always taxing. It was recommended to be taken at a SeeD's most restful state, during sleep, but instead, Squall would just wait it out and take the third bottle, remedy, after a few minutes. Remedy would calm the fresh energies and make them junction-able and usable again.

This process was only used for SeeDs who came directly out of a mission only to be commissioned for another, where getting three square meals and sleep were not an option. It was why Hammerheads were frequently used if local shops were inaccessible.

"It's weird to think the moon was once gone, huh?" Quistis said softly. She came from behind Squall, refreshed, hair kempt, and ready for bed. "Well, the moon didn't exactly disappear, otherwise, we'd be dead. All of the planets would spin out of orbit. It's the only clue scientists and astrophysicists have."

"Yeah," was all Squall said.

It was revealed later that Galbadian researchers had been tinkering with large numbers of sorceresses for their studies. The reports coming into Garden as they came were detailed with sickening and inhumane procedures. Squall had the opportunity of reading those reports as he moved up in his undergraduate years. Speculation, soon enough, began seeing Galbadia as the culprit of the moon's disappearance, but it was only speculation by Garden and governments of different nations, since the information was heavily censored and concealed from the general public.

Wanting to be left alone, Squalled sighed, saying, "Yes?"

"Squall, I realize this mission is greatly important, but is it really wise to ignore Cid's erratic behavior? Especially after what happened in Caelum?" Quistis asked.

The SeeDs were practically misused and trampled all over by the Senate, and Cid's absence resulted in their extended stay before Galbadia had come and revoked Caelum's sovereignty. SeeD candidates died during that extra battle. But to say their death was on account of the Headmaster's actions? That was running from the realities of war, cowering with quasi-excuses.

"Listen," Squall replied, "we're SeeDs, Quistis."

At the mention of her name, Quistis' ears perked. She hadn't heard Squall say her name without it being accompanied by a title in so long. They'd grown up together, but when she'd become his instructor and then his partner, he always kept things so formal. Too formal.

"As SeeDs,"Squall continued, "our independent thoughts on matters like the Headmaster's behavior isn't required when on a mission. Therefore, it's not needed. All we can do is use our best judgment while keeping the Garden's integrity in mind."

"Yes, but—"

"It's all I'll say on the matter," Squall cut in. He began to walk away. He needed to think, to focus on his new mission.

"It's not always about your duty, Squall. You're human too, and I don't know when you'll realize that. It's all right to be worried. . . ." But he'd already slipped away, further into the Hammerhead.

* * *

I decided to add in some detail regarding the mechanics of SeeD magic and summoning. Anyway, next chapter, the Forest Owls make it into a locked down, Galbadian occupied Timber!


	12. The Calling

_**The Calling**_

Irvine felt unsettled by Selphie's unusual silence. In the passenger's seat, her elbow comfortably lay on the space between the window, supporting her head that was captivated by the moving skies. Outside, the atmosphere slowly transitioned from day and melted into a lulling, early night. Stars painted the black hollow of the skies, a myriad of white eyes looking out, as if searching for the absent moon. The mercenaries were coming close to Deling City, the ever-present cover of night being a clear indicator. No one really knew why the whole of northern Galbadia was perpetually sheathed in a constant heavy cloud of night sky. There were only ten clear days out of the year in which Galbadians called the celebratory week and a half "First Light." People in Deling City thought the dark skies had something to do with the moon disappearing so long ago mixed with the heavy industrial smog. At least, that explanation was widely accepted as truth.

Kinneas stole another glance her way, wondering what was running through her mind. He was a little surprised by Selphie's behavior because it mainly seemed to stem from his unwillingness to inform her of the details of his missions. Didn't she understand that questioning a joint mission was sometimes prohibited because of the conflict it sometimes propagated? His orders specifically spelled out utmost secrecy, but Irvine honestly didn't see the harm in filling her in on all of the alternatives the two may be forced to take in the mission, and why the path he chose now was appropriate.

He'd been given an indirect order from Caraway as well, requesting to use optimal care when it came to one Rinoa Heartilly. She was the general's only daughter, who had joined a resistance faction that the media claimed was out of spite. Irvine had known she'd be in Caelum, following the reports of CHIC, and when he'd finally spotted her, Rinoa's safety had become his temporary priority. Upon letting his target slip from him, he had no choice but to find a hotel and wait there.

Telling Selphie those bits of information would at least quell her questioning nature.

"Say _something_, Tilmitt. I'm not a big fan of the car radio," Irvine decided to say.

Selphie was startled slightly by his interruption into her thoughts. She'd been listening intently to the hum of the car's motor.

"I thought this was a simple recon mission, Kinneas. Why are we headed to Deling City?"

Irvine grinned at her, relieved she hadn't completely lost faith in the mission. "Unfortunately," he answered, "it's the closest hotel we can get to regroup and wait for more leads." Irvine reached into his jacket and removed the metal plate, CHIC from his chest pocket. He turned it on and handed the device to Selphie. "I know what you really want to know is who's the girl we're chasing, and why we're chasing her."

Selphie nodded, again paying close attention to the description of the girl. It did little to answer her questions though.

"The girl is a threat to the nation, and just about the Hyne damned world," he said. "I really don't know why, but all I know is that the Galbadian military wants her back in their custody."

"So, she's a fugitive of the state?" Selphie asked, to which Irvine nodded. "And the stone you gave to the Chancellor, what was that all about?"

Irvine sighed, careful not to divulge too much. "It's a precious oar from the mines of Esthar. Smelt and refine those bad boys and you can make almost anything. But the real thrill is that those anything's will be supplemented with powerful magic. In exchange for that, Caelum agreed to hand over the girl without a fight, but, you know, the Chancellor broke his promise, and the girl escaped."

Selphie could only surmise that their actions to defend themselves against the Chancellor's magic and guards was the right thing to do. If the girl called Demilee was as dangerous as Irvine said, it made sense that Caelum would want to use her, especially if keeping Caelum's sovereignty was their priority.

"Of course," Selphie thought aloud. "So Caelum knew what she was capable of. . . . " She then turned to face Irvine. "You'd think those details were something I should know about. If I can't even know the crucial stuff, how successful do you think this mission will be?" she asked.

"But you're a SeeD, Selphie, you come from a Garden, like me. Of all things, we know that Gardens like their individual secrets."

The vehicle came to a slow stop, the soft golden glow of a city alive with activity floated on the dark outline of flat terrain. A few feet ahead, they'd hit heavy traffic, like always. "We wouldn't have been partnered up if my Headmaster and yours didn't have faith in our collective abilities," Kinneas finished.

"I hope you're right about that. . . ." Selphie appeared satisfied, but he couldn't be sure how permanent it was.

"You ever been to Deling City?" Irvine asked, feeling more at ease.

"Once, during my SeeD training."

"Only once? Then you haven't been to Deling. I'll show you the hot places!"

"That doesn't sound productive," Selphie smirked. Irvine laughed.

"Well—"

Two blinding yellow lights flashed onto the Tempest's rear view mirror, halting the vehicle and the traffic ahead. Irvine shifted his gear to neutral and pressed back into his seat.

"What's going on?" Selphie asked, Deling City's lights ever closer.

"Clearance," he answered. "The new ambassador's heading out of the city, so security's being anal about everything."

It was the one thing Irvine hated about his hometown. When Galbadia wanted to make a big deal about something, they made a big deal about it. All month, the radio airwaves and cyberspace were buzzing with discussion over the mysterious new world ambassador President Deling had chosen in his quest to contain the violent civil war that was destroying Timber. Her identity would be revealed upon touchdown in Timber. For now, all people knew was that she was a sorceress, a being that Deling had once ordered his army exterminate throughout the whole Galbadian continent. Initially, Galbadians had rejected the alliance, fearing she'd only bring about another world war like Adel had in Esthar, and that President Deling would lose his nation to her. But if the new political venture between man and sorceress supported much needed social reform and the complete eradication of war, citizens were eager to accept. Timber's endless fighting suddenly became a concern to the Galbadian people through the new ambassador's campaign, but Irvine wasn't sure if Timberans would accept her. In their eyes, she was just another Galbadian ploy to gain control and oppress the people.

"Identification please," said a Galbadian officer of the military. He flashed a light into Irvine and Selphie's eyes.

The sharpshooter handed over CHIC, to which the officer scanned and confirmed.

"Who's the woman?"

"Joint mission, she's from Garden," Irvine answered.

The soldier nodded once then gestured for the vehicle to proceed.

"Sorry to bother, sir," he apologized.

Irvine continued down the single line of asphalt, meeting up again with traffic. As he passed over the large, brightly lit archway that welcomed them to Galbadia's capitol, he could already hear the noisy bustle of the city again. Trains sighed open, traffic horns blared, and moving people spoke loudly amongst each other. Selphie was captivated by the city's high energy. It was the direct opposite of Balamb.

"If Caraway's daughter is in the resistance faction, there's a high chance she's headed to Timber, right?" Selphie questioned, coming down from her excitement. "That city's full of factions."

"That's a high possibility, but those groups are never predictable," Irvine said. "Besides, she's out of immediate danger."

"Caraway must think we're babysitters or something," Selphie sighed.

"I guess he cares a lot for his daughter is all. SeeDs get tossed around like that."

To herself, Selphie said, "The Commander wouldn't like that one bit."

Again, Selphie laughed to herself.

* * *

Morning came quickly, but the Forest Owls had already been up before sunrise. If they wished to make it into Timber when security was a bit more relaxed, the group would have to at least arrive before noon. Kal had given the faction enough time to take a dip in the lake, eat a small meal prepared by Demileee, and to meet him by the Lanker train track. The path would take them directly to Timber, and since the APC was out, the faction had a half-hour walk ahead of them.

While waiting, Seifer kicked his foot to place one over the other, his head resting above his arms. Spread across the hood of Demilee's gas-less APC was his body, putting the obsolete vehicle to some kind of good use. While the rest of the owl-brains were off splashing around in the waters still, Seifer decided to leave to the clearing early, to get some morning thinking in before he'd go off and lend his protective services until the faction reached Timber. At least in their own territory, Seifer knew the group wouldn't get themselves captured or killed so easily.

But, the wellbeing of the faction didn't concern Almasy nearly as much as the girl called Demilee, or Autumn, or whatever her name was. Bright Eyes was a mystery to him, only because she possessed magical energies that matched a sorceress', yet she insisted that she wasn't. If she wasn't a sorceress, how was she able to harness such massive energy, toppling the Forest Owls' base and wiping out those pursuing Galbadians? Why had Caelum officials thrown her in jail, claiming she was a threat to them? And if she _was _a sorceress, why did she need the use of that mysterious black stone Seifer had found to melt the bars of her own cell and his? Yet, ever since their escape, Bright Eyes appeared to be normal—a weirdo with abnormal eyes—but normal by his standards.

Then, she'd been humming that familiar tune there in the prison, the same one his friend Fujin used to hum. His friend had disappeared over a year ago, and Seifer wanted answers. Fujin had had an apartment in the town of Balamb, a few miles outside of the academy they both once attended. Police officials had counted her disappearance as a possible kidnapping. Her residence had been trashed and the only piece of evidence left behind was a note with her handwriting, saying, "Find me before the end." The note was now in the possession of the police who stuck closely to their verdict of Fujin being taken by force.

What they failed to realize, or just simply overlooked, was that she was a militarily trained student of Garden, and that not just anyone could take her down. Seifer and his other friend, Raijin, decided they'd go their own way to find her, picking up clues where they came.

Balamb Garden had been Seifer's first stop. The troublemaker of Garden had, alas, returned to the only home he knew after two long years, looking for answers. Earning his SeeDship had no longer been a concern to the then twenty-two year old— and it still wasn't— and that was what had puzzled so many, even the Headmaster. Balamb Garden had once been alive because of Seifer. The unruly, bully Almasy and his posse of two, Fujin and Raijin. The one and only Disciplinary Committee, created by Cid to teach Seifer and his buddies some responsibility. His role as the badass was even completed with Leonhart as his rival and the local schoolgirls ogling them both any chance they got.

Seifer's ideas of grandeur, pursuing the goal of becoming a SeeD, protector of humanity, had ended when he left. He'd only been nineteen when Balamb became a place of departure for him, returning at twenty-two, unchanged with no real accomplishments. He wanted to break rules, to reach unfettered freedom and glory, to beat the law-abiding Squall a different way. Seifer didn't want to be a _planted_ SeeD, stuck in a hole to grow. But, Balamb didn't need a derelict soldier either, Cid had said, the garden needed much more from him. But Seifer wasn't willing—young revolutionaries like himself wouldn't submit just like that—so he left, and he'd been happy. After all, it had always been about him, his loyal posse, and his chivalrous dream of being the ultimate hero, or knight. Everyone knew the components that made up the "troubled Almasy", but no one really understood him, that was why he, Raijin and Fujin were so close, and why Seifer refused to believe a member of his posse was dead.

Fujin's disappearance a year ago put Seifer and Raijin on a wild chase that yielded little to no results. All the information Seifer had gained in his journey was that Fujin was a descendant of a sorceress and that that could have been a factor in her unexplained disappearance. Now, with Bright Eyes, he felt a connection,. The song she hummed was Fujin's, there was no doubt. Coming to Caelum based on Galbadian intel hadn't been a total loss after all, and Seifer would follow the girl a little longer before questioning her; he didn't want to reveal himself so soon just yet. He'd wait it out, study her a bit.

Again, Seifer heard the girl humming, shrubs and broken twigs snapping under her boots that were too big for her feet as she came through the forest with Rinoa. It was bugging him that everyone was so chummy with her, eating the girl's food, carrying on conversations as if they hadn't been nearly killed by her. Seifer had allowed Bright Eyes to join him in escaping Caelum because it was necessary, now, she was just annoying.

"The seats inside are more comfortable, you know," Demilee said. She tossed a dandelion, whose feathery seeds had been blown away. The plant landed on Seifer's chest. He simply removed it, saying,

"This tank is useless, stop complaining."

Seeing as the two women were here to stay until the rest of the faction was ready to leave, Seifer lifted his head from its resting position. He noticed Rinoa's hair was wet from her dip into the lake. The burn on her neck was now just a scar, thanks to his healing magic. Seifer figured Demilee preferred the smut and residue of Caelum on her face and hands. There was no sign she'd been anywhere near the water.

"Seifer, will you be joining us into Timber?" Rinoa asked. "Everyone else is all ready with Kal."

"Yeah."

Seifer jumped from the APC, the rickety tank creaking. He walked around to grab his silver jacket and Hyperion from inside the truck. In Timber, he would have the opportunity to reconnoiter again, find out anything he could from the Galbadians about Fujin's disappearance. From there, Seifer would play it by ear, and if no results were showing up for too long, he'd eventually leave and start again somewhere else.

It'd be a laughing matter if people knew what Seifer had been up to for the past five years, especially people from Garden. Seeing Quistis in Caelum like that, a figure from his past, got him thinking _a lot_ about too many things. He couldn't lie, however. He did wonder what those Garden pricks probably thought when Quistis ran back to tell them who she'd seen chained up by Caelum militia—if she'd even done that. He was again, unchanged and the same, with no real accomplishments. Regardless, Seifer had to remember his new role. He was playing detective, biding his time, looking in empty corners for excitement and purpose. It was true, at least to a certain extent—finding his friend, one who'd been with him since joining Garden, was his main objective, but his search was also a task that kept him going, kept him _useful_.

"Do you think Timber has changed at all? It's only been a couple of months, but that's enough time for anything to happen nowadays," Rinoa asked. She pulled a chunk of her damp hair back into a sloppy bun. Now that Seifer was fully equipped, the trio moved on to join Kal and the others. They followed along the tracks, Demilee trailing behind with her giant bookbag, picking up weeds that caught her eye.

"Is Timber you guys' home?" Demilee asked, now balancing herself on one of the sides of the metal tracks. Trains in the distance sounded their horns, scattering the birds. Bright Eyes took it all in.

". . . Yeah, it's become my home now," Rinoa answered, her voice had a bit of resentment in it. It was something none of the other members bothered to ask her. Everyone in the faction seemed to have a past they preferred to remain buried.

Demilee replied, "Then I understand why you want to protect it." She then ran up to pass Seifer, and began to walk backwards, arms behind her back. "And what about you, Mr. Soldier? What's bringing you to Timber?"

"Who knows? Maybe I'm running from something," he answered.

At Seifer's remark, Demilee shrugged her shoulders and continued her newfound hobby of collecting weeds. In good time, the group was before a split in the tracks, one headed south and the other north, where beyond, lay the city smog of Timber. Not too far ahead, the rest of the Forest Owls waited, with the exception of Watts. Since their escape, the team appeared to be more upbeat.

"We'll move out once Watts gets here, he should be on his way by now," Kal announced when Seifer, Rinoa, and Demilee were close enough. "We saw a few Galbadian APC's headed toward Timber, thought it'd be safe to get some intel first."

"Wasn't there some type of big event being planned this week?" Zone asked, to which Kal nodded.

"Yeah, some new bill's being introduced along with Galbadia's new ambassador," Kal answered.

"Sounds promising," Zone scoffed.

"In any case, all this week, security is going to be doubled. Fine timing to come back, eh?" the head of the Forest Owls jested. He straightened up. "The checkpoints will be an extra pain in the ass, but just stay calm. If we escaped Caelum, we can get pass some measly soldiers."

Watts's figure came running down the tracks at full speed, and when he was near enough, he lowered himself to huff and puff.

"Well," Seifer asked impatiently.

"Well, uh, there's definitely more security, sir! Galbadian security. And they're checking people for magic reserves now." After getting what he needed out, Watts relaxed and continued to catch his breath.

"All right people, it's planning time," Kal said.

He wouldn't risk his team's imprisonment by careless unpreparedness. The Galbadians would love to capture him, a known "terrorist" just to show that their occupation was justified and for the protection of the people from enemies that wished to disrupt peace. The lie was eaten up quick by citizens who didn't live in the City Square but in the surrounding areas, far from the bombings, shootings, and daily war between Galbadian soldiers and civilian factions.

"Well when you weasels quit playing strategists, I won't be there to back you up," Seifer announced. His silver trench coat flapped in the gentle Mandy ocean breeze, doing little to conceal the weapon at his waist.

"Dipping out when the going gets tough, huh?" Zone challenged. He came away from the group a bit, ready to start.

"Don't get all tough guy on me, asshole," Seifer taunted.

"Keep walking, the Forest Owls don't need you, _asshole_," Zone shot back. Angered, he clenched his fists, even more fired up that Seifer didn't seem to react. Kal sighed, but this time, it was Rinoa who spoke up.

"Seifer," she yelled, "what Zone is trying to say is don't do things alone." She floundered, but continued, "And you're apart of a team now, and—"

"This ain't no team, it's a damn joke—"

"Wrong, Seifer," Kal interjected. "It's a faction. I know you're not a man that belongs to anything, but at least have the respect of one that does. We fight for freedom. What the hell else are you fighting for?"

Seifer was silent, and instead of answering, he walked away, his feet guiding him to Timber. Faction or not, Seifer didn't need them as much as they needed him. He could take out Galbadian guards with ease and even welcome them running to tell their superiors. A fight was all he'd be looking for in the mean time. Plotting to tiptoe around the Galbadians didn't suit him, and for some reason, Seifer felt riled up.

"Wait!" Rinoa stormed over to Seifer, stopping him, and for the first time since meeting him, she looked at him with newfound anger. But Seifer could see past it. "Is this for good, Seifer?"

"What, the 'princess' is turning her back on me too?" Almasy asked, half-jokingly. Rinoa shook her head, a small smile lighting up her face again.

"If we are parting ways, before you do, pummeling those guards would give us enough time to slip in."

"So, you're using me?" Rinoa didn't feel threatened by Seifer, she never did, but his lopsided grin and eyes that only seemed to see a battlefield in any situation intimidated her. The way Seifer made Rinoa feel wasn't necessarily a bad thing to her, in fact, it may have been the very thing that attracted her to him. If there was anything she learned about Seifer, it was that he always liked a good fight. He was also a wild dog she couldn't keep.

"It'll be my little thank you for sticking around this long," Rinoa answered. She extended her hand to his. "Deal?" He laughed and pushed on.

"Finally, some appreciation," he said back.

A little agitated by Seifer's ego, the faction pressed onward, talking amongst themselves of what they'd do upon arrival. Kal and Rinoa wanted to get back to headquarters. Elise, Vinny and Zone had to see about acquiring a new mobile base, while Watts wanted to do what he was good at—gathering information on the new ambassador. With Galbadia tightening their security and oppression over Timber, each Faction within was probably antsy to do some rightful damage, or at least boil up a nice plan for active members to execute.

As the group neared Timber's entrance, the land ascended onto another hill, making way to herald the iron archway whose golden sign had the word "Timber" inscribed on it. Two Galbadian sentries stood watch over the entryway, immediately catching sight of the faction headed their way.

Spiraling and coiling up into the atmosphere were giant snakes of black smoke, the familiar smell of coal and other products of factories burning into the air. The faction could now make out the outline of Timber's cityscape, a sea of marble buildings and streets made blue by its gunmetal reinforcement. Brick houses with billowing chimneys and apartment buildings sat high on hills that encased the City Square, where the largest construction in Timber was seated. Timber's only television station flashed friendly beams of purple, pink, and yellow lights into the sky, alluring possible tourists.

To be in the company of so many people was suspicious, but the faction figured that if Seifer could knock the soldiers out cold, they could immediately disperse and mix in with the bustling flow of human traffic. It was a less smooth way to go about things, but Rinoa kind of liked the excitement of it.

Seifer just wanted to release some built up anger, its source, he couldn't quite put a finger on. Taking a trip down memory lane was never a good idea, but sometimes it couldn't be helped, and now, he was in a sour mood and in need of a good drink.

"All right," came the bored, routine command of one of the soldiers, "hold it right there, you all. Single file." As the other held the group at gunpoint, the other removed from his arsenal of searching equipment a rectangular band that could detect magic, along with a bin of discarded items that proved too dangerous to be let into the city.

Seifer was first. Hands up, he stepped forward. The guard slammed his gloved hands into Seifer's shoulders, and that made him angry.

"You son of a bitch," Seifer said calmly. He reached and twisted the soldier's arm so that he screamed in pain and was forced to face the opposite direction. Before the other sentry could react, Seifer slammed his partner into the armed Galbadian. The two fell easily, and that pissed Seifer off. Instead of leaving them as they were, he knocked the two unconscious with his fists.

Easy work.

Onlookers backed away immediately, alerting other patrolling soldiers, but by the time the path to the incident was cleared, the Forest Owls had already dispersed.

* * *

Ellone came awake with discomfort, finding the sudden pressure of the ship pulling her into a certain direction. The shift meant that the vessel was slowing down to dock. Confused, the woman pulled the light sheets from her body and slowly rose from the wooden bed. Some of the children had followed her below deck into the dim-lit cabin to nap, having tired themselves out after listening to Ellone's endless tales. They lay scattered on the floor, undisturbed by the groaning wood and sway of the ocean, nor by the sudden lift in humid temperature.

Sleepily, Ellone maneuvered her way through the slumbering children, careful not to wake them. She managed to escape to the deck undetected to find Daris in his usual sentinel position. He looked so stiff and out of place against the clear, spring skies, watching over those he was sworn to protect.

Today, the deck was not bathed in the orange, hazy glow of Esthar's surrounding oceans, instead, the horizon was animated, alive with such beautiful, pristine blue. There was no indication where land met sky, only a deep cerulean canvas, complete with an off-center white sun. Even the wind, saltier and stronger in potency, combed through Ellone's hair with high vitality. Her spirits were immediately buoyed by the change in weather, warmed by the blue atmosphere. She felt at home and as though rolling green grass was only a step away.

When Captain Daris found Ellone looking around in wonderment, he smiled, finally relieved that her childlike glow was beginning to return.

"Did the ship wake you, Ellone?" he asked.

"For good reason," she breathed out. ". . . Where are we?"

Beyond the prow of the White SeeD Ship, Ellone couldn't find an answer to her question. All she saw was ocean, sky, and sun.

"Laid-back temperament and warm, just as its people." Daris came beside Ellone, his grin growing wider. "We're headed toward the isle of Balamb. It is our destination."

Already, her excitement could not be concealed and Daris was reminded of the gentle woman who had been placed under his charge. She'd been so innocent, and curious of him at first, eager to learn what his life at sea entailed, despite the grim meaning behind their companionship. She was to be kept safe, sheltered away from a world that wished to exploit her and her powerful mind.

"This is where my uncle wants me?" Ellone asked, finding the constant warm breeze a small bother as it tousled through her hair.

"For now. Yes."

Other crewmen in the same white, overall uniform as Daris came forth, toting their swords and unfamiliar weaponry. Behind them, Ellone could now make out a murky, rugged bump in the horizon.

"Captain, the ship is inbound and ready to dock," said Lyndan. Her long, red curls seemed unruly as they refused to be concealed within the attached headpiece of her uniform.

To be among civilians again, people she didn't know, and to lie in a bed that didn't sway aroused new vigor within Ellone. For months, she'd been traveling on a ship with orphaned children, seemingly with no direction, her path just as wide as the water she plied through. Though their arrival to Balamb may only be for a few short days, all Ellone wanted was to remove herself from the ship for however long Daris would allot to her.

"Stand back!" commanded Daris.

He protectively shoved an arm before Ellone, backing away. Something large and aquatic viciously snarled and bit at the air, wiggling its way up from the water and onto the ship. It convulsed and snapped its scaly orange tail, its fiendish yellow eyes like beads buried within the massive, rock-like exoskeleton.

"A fasticolon!" cried Lyndan, blinking away splashing water. She unsheathed her thin, silver sword. Ellone continued stepping the opposite way, finding herself still new to battling monsters that sometimes crawled onto the ship. This one, she'd never seen before, but something about it reminded her of energy in its purest form. She suddenly felt a primitive calm rush through her, cool and earnest.

"Wait . . ." Ellone quietly said.

The fiend seemed to swim through the air currents, propelling water from its body as its teeth, appearing like rows of daggers, took hold of Lyndan's sword, crunching away. More White SeeD came bearing their weapons, summoning fiery spells and plunging bullets and rapiers into the beast. Before long, the fasticolon plummeted to the floor of the vessel and the threat was dissolved.

Ellone sighed, realizing she'd been holding her breath. Lyndan kicked the creature to be sure that it was dead. Ellone flinched suddenly, sensing an infant wave of energy within the creature again. Daris tried to keep Ellone from the fiend, but she insisted. She took a seat beside the carcass, running her hands atop the black wounds of the creature. In its blood, she could see blue energy waver and flatten at her presence. It held the same warmth as the energy that lay nestled within her subconscious each time she tried to connect, the one whose name came to her as a complete mystery. E and N, the energy had revealed to her.

With little warning, the blue energy streamed from the creature's blood, as if distilling itself into a pure compound. Ellone watched with the rest of the ship's crew as the energy grew, morphing into an unaltered, fervid light. Then, all of it pushed through the salty air and beat into Ellone's chest. She quivered violently and then fell back at the contact, catching the very blurred sound of Daris' yells. Her vision became black, but Ellone could still feel the wind of Balamb, was still aware of her surroundings. At the moment, all she could focus on was what her mind was seeing: an awesome body of energy—aquatic and ethereal nearly shrouding the darkness itself. An otherworldly breath flew from the shapeless creature like white mist, its large, silhouette frame rising and falling with the ocean upon which it seemed to hail.

Ellone felt its welcome.

"Mortal," its voice burbled like water, "I've come to you, a great distance I have traveled on this physical plane. Seek the Half-child. I lend you the spirit of Darmis. Do not succumb to terrestrial urges. . . ."

Ellone's breath escaped out of her in short spurts, bubbles of water escaping her lips. Before her, the creature had receded, entering her being and taking root inside of her subconscious. Now, she could feel the energy breathing, reminding her of its request. Then she saw the blue of the sky again, the sudden blackness clearing. Quickly, Daris came to help her stand.

"What on earth was that?" Lyndan asked. She looked around her, as if the creature had also invited her into Ellone's mind.

"A Guardian Force," Ellone unsteadily answered. "It was trapped within that fiend."

"Are you all right?" Daris asked, to which Ellone nodded. "What exactly does it want?"

Ellone hesitated, then turned back to the carcass of the fiend Daris and his men had defeated. "I can't be sure," she quietly answered. "Leviathan is its name."

Once, when she was thirteen, Ellone had stumbled outside of her Uncle's manor to run along the winding, plexi-glass streets of Esthar. She'd found a Guardian Force inside the dying body of a fiend, and with little effort drew the energy. It was a skill that only militarily trained professionals could perform, but she'd done it with no trouble. Her Uncle insisted that she keep the GF so that it would protect her, and she had tried to.

"That's odd, for a GF to take residence inside of a lowly fasticolon. . . ." Daris commented.

Only, if Daris knew that the Guardian Force seemed to be searching for Ellone, he probably would have found it even more absurd. Guardian Forces were primitive, instinctual beasts. Leviathan had taken residency inside of the Fasticolon for necessity, it seemed, traveling along to come into contact with her—a rational, willful decision it had made. But most people who didn't have any real connection to such beasts believed that behaving outside of instinct was impossible or highly unlikely. Any creature that could be trained to submit and obey didn't deserve to be thought of as independent thinkers, but Ellone begged to differ. Leviathan, this new Guardian Force seemed to act outside of the very animalistic calling that separated it from humans. What it meant eluded Ellone, but it did have a similar aura to that of the E and N being she always tried to make contact with. For now, Leviathan was her only clue.

"To the left!" barked the rest of the crewmen.

Two heavy anchors were thrown out into the sea, plunging deep. The ship croaked and groaned, coming beside other docking commercial vessels. Ellone quickly came to the edge of the White SeeD ship, bowing over the railing while ignoring Daris' warning. A wide smile spread across her face again when she saw the white cement of a paved road a short distance from the port. It curved and hugged a circular stalwart of a building, and that was when Ellone knew they'd reached a city.

Overhead, seagulls wailed and flapped their wings as if to attract the congregation of vessels coming and going.

"Are we allowed to leave the ship this time?" cried one child. Another jumped and squirmed for Daris' attention so that he could answer the young child's continual questions.

"What in Balamb?" Ellone asked Daris, calming some of the children's excitement. They danced around the two, singing and laughing.

"Well," Daris began, but then stopped. He looked to the port city, saw a few uniformed men waiting amongst each other. They were Cid's SeeDs. "This is your Uncle's wish."

"Do you mean this is permanent?" Ellone backed away a bit, unsure of the new development. She'd never thought of the possibility that her leave from Esthar would mean she could never return.

"As permanent as your safety is. We will leave the moment things become unstable," Daris answered strongly.

Ellone pulled back her hair, staying her hands, but the moment she let go, the dark strands reassembled above her shoulders. "I still don't understand. . . ." Daris nodded, as if to silence her coming questions.

"No more worries, Ellone, the answers will come." She smiled at the reassuring prospect and succumbed again to her impatience.

The White SeeD vessel finally stopped sliding along the waters and stayed its long, slender body along the white boardwalk at which it was stationed. The ship's large sails, formed in the fashion of a great creature's webbed wings mechanically folded inward, aligning with its wooden mast. Everything was still, but the sighing ocean, the children, and the people crowding the dock. Ellone spotted a lone young man in some kind of school uniform seated at the farthest edge, playing a soft tune on his guitar. The sound traveled to her despite the clamor of moving cargo and conversation.

"Captain Daris!" came a harsh summon.

Both Ellone and Daris stepped to the front of the vessel. A young man with an unusual tribal tattoo that lined the whole side of his face, looked up at her. His dark green gaze became a curious one, but he was still guarded nonetheless. When the mysterious man received Daris' attention, he brought a hand up to the side of his face so that only his brass knuckles could be seen. Daris returned the crisp gesture with his hand and Ellone immediately realized that the blonde was a SeeD. However, he was dressed differently from the White SeeD, darker and with a suit overcoat.

The man pounded his chest, and the force he used made Ellone flinch.

"Dincht, at your service! Balamb welcomes you!"

* * *

Author's Note: Again, thank you Jade for sticking through! I'm glad you're enjoying the story thus far! (I'm sorry it took me sooo long to update, that's totally unfair!) I hope I kind of answered your question as to why Seifer does what he does! All of the gang's been introduced (finally!) so now, in the upcoming chapters, a huuuuuuge chunk of plot will be revealed, at least the parts concerning Ellone, Cid, and Demilee! I also want to note that almost all of the main characters have questions and a sense of confusion about a lot of things, which is intended to evoke curiosity in the reader... Til next time!


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